Star Wars: Power Struggle Episode II: Honored Guests
by The Icon of Sloth
Summary: A continuation of Episode I of Power Struggle. Again I don't own anything and just made this for fun. Warning: Child abuse, child murder, psychological/emotional abuse and torture, blood & gore, and language.
1. Chapter 1

Star Wars:

Power Struggle

A Rollplay Balance of Power Fanfic

Episode II: Honored Guests

A team of imperial agents sore through hyperspace within a battle scarred Lambda shuttle, returning from a successful counter-terrorist operation.

A rebel base within an imperial sector's main asteroid belt disintegrated; and a Force sensitive, female Twi'lek within their custody.

As they drift through hyperspace, the Twi'lek makes a risky decision to talk to her captures, to pry some information out of them.

And indeed, some of them have questions of their own for her…


	2. Chapter 2

As the squad of imperial agents patiently await their destination through hyperspace, Sergeant Otto Mateen asks their prisoner a question. "Now, what do you know about Order 66?" B'el Sah's eyes dart towards Otto; her triumphant, smug mask cracks away into a tense, guarded stare. "Agent, what do you think you're doing?"

Tharan enters the passenger area, "I am curious as well. Come now, Agent Sah. We've already won, and I'm in a good enough mood to allow this. Speak, girl." Ki'Wul En glares at all three of them; she ignores Otto's question and asks her own in a mixture of anger and sorrow. "Was everything you four said and did… what the commander told me about you all… was it all just lie?"

B'el Sah, now more relaxed, busts out laughing and answers snobbishly, "Ah, we wouldn't be spies if we weren't good liars, dear." She types something on her datapad before pressing 'send.' "Over a year, we've dedicated to this ruse. And now, we get to enjoy the fruits of our labor, finally."

"Made even easier by being assigned to a spineless weakling those rebel scum dared call a commander." The imperial woman crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at Tharan, "Though I was getting concerned 'some' of us were going native." 

Tharan chuckles, pressing his right hand against where a person's heart should be, in a mock fashion. "My dear, lady B'el Sah. You wound me with such talk," he sarcastically replies. B'el Sah raises an eyebrow, "You mean to tell us you didn't enjoy being a 'public relations offi-puhahaha!" The imperial agent couldn't keep a straight face or finish the sentence seriously.

Tharan scowls at the mention of that 'rank.' "A pretentious name for being nothing but a weak propaganda device and court jester for the New Republic." B'el Sah chuckles, "Yet you said all those speeches with such fervor, such enthusiasm; and with a straight face, amazingly."

Tharan glances over and smirks, "I suppose I got some enjoyment out of making the rest of you suffer along with me for uttering such nonsense." B'el Sah glowers, "Ugh, believe me Agent Tallon, you succeeded with flying colors." 

"Answer the question," Otto demands the Twi'lek, ignoring the banter between his fellow ISB agents. She responds by spitting in his direction again, this time hitting the tip of his left boot. Otto doesn't pay attention to it and repeats, "Answer the question." He gives emphasis to his order by firing a shot next to the girl's head.

She flinches and yelps in surprise. Lana jerked back in response to hearing the blaster shot, but decided it best not to interfere. She had already angered Tharan enough and didn't want to risk it. Tharan looks over to Ki'Wul En, "You never really were molested by an imperial officer, were you?" B'el Sah turns her gaze to the girl with amusement all over her features, "Such a cute lie. It almost sounded believable too."

Tharan stares down the Twi'lek till she couldn't take it anymore. She averted her gaze, "Alright, fine! I lied. Not like you're one to talk." Otto fires another shot, this time at the girl's feet. The blaster bolt missed her toes by a few centimeters.

Ki'Wul En recoils from the sudden blast. "Chuba; E chu ta; sleemo; Bantha poodoo! I get the hint!" She screamed to the top of her lungs, staring hatefully at the dispassionate looking agent. 

"We're waiting," Tharan replies. Ki'Wul En sighs heavily, "My mother was one of the few Jedi that escaped the slaughter your Empire's 'precious' clone troopers did. She was just a padawan and didn't really move up from there after the fall of the Jedi."

"She told me that she heard the clone troopers mention an order that was given by your guys' Emperor, and that was the reason they started killing off Jedi. Or… capturing them for who knows what." She leans her head back, "I was born on that rock you all found me on."

"And as 'luck' would have it…," she pauses with a frown. "I got some of my mom's 'talents' as I grew a little older. She only told me how to keep them hidden, nothing more. When she and dad died, I couldn't scourge up enough credits to pay your people's fucking taxes every planetary cycle."

"So I was carted off into slavery as 'reparation'." She sneered out the last word. "One of the jailers found out I was Force sensitive around the time your Emperor finally…" 

Tharan interrupts her, "Choose your next words carefully, dear." His voice maintained that somewhat positive tone; but even with the added smile, the Twi'lek could see danger behind those dark brown eyes. Ki'Wul En glances over at Otto and B'el Sah, and sees the same dark look in their eyes.

It struck insurmountable fear into her very soul and she couldn't tell why. She felt a lump in her throat, and struggled to actually continue speaking when staring at them. She found the strength to avert her eyes from them. When she did so, it felt like she could finally breathe.

She decides it best to just skip to the point, "Well, they found out and were about to send me away untill… stuff happened." That answer seemed to have pleased them: when she snuck a quick peek at the three, that overbearing, suffocating feeling wasn't present.

"Go on," Tharan said softly. Ki'Wul En nodded to herself, "Okay, okay. Almost there," she mumbles. "So, afterwards, they just kept me under better security and gave me extra rations out of everyone else. That's it." "Hmm, pity. I had hoped for something more exciting," B'el Sah says with a fake yawn. 

Ki'Wul En doesn't care what insults they throw at this point, she's just happy she's still alive. "So that's what it was called? Order 66?" She didn't know what compelled her to ask the question, but she did.

"Very few people in the galaxy know the full details about it. We only know a bit," Otto answered while holstering his blaster: the girl wasn't much of a threat as he suspected. "Why do you keep up the act?" Ki'Wul En asked him in succession.

Otto tilted his head and looked at her confused. "The accent," she specified. Otto grimaced at the Twi'lek and rolled his eyes, "Not everyone in the imperial military has the 'obvious bad guy' accent." He said straightening his back and crossing his arms. "I prefer the term, misunderstood," B'el Sah interjected. 

Just then the Lambda popped through hyperspace, their destination reached. Tharan claps his hands and says with vigor, "Whelp, break time's over! Time to look presentable everyone." "As long as you two wear those gaudy rags, you'll do nothing but insult everyone on 'the Relentless'."

"Ha!" Tharan vehemently huffs while picking up his satchel. "Forgive us, 'Emissary of the Emperor,' that us 'lowly' agents want to keep our covers; and not have our uniforms within the enemy's reach." The imperial agent said with all his words dripping with sarcasm. "Lack of dedication, then," B'el Sah says under her breath, readying her datapad once more. 

Otto consciously looks over his jacket and gives a sly smile at B'el Sah. "You know, Agent Tallon. I actually like this jacket." B'el Sah chews the bottom of her lip when hearing that. She gives a low growl but makes sure she maintains composure. Tharan sees what Otto's trying to do and joins in on the fun.

"Keep it then, Agent Mateen. Wear it proudly with your ISB badge pinned to it," Tharan said with a wicked grin on his face. As Tharan gets his satchel ready and Otto slings his rifle bag on, B'el Sah practically boils with anger as she waits for the shuttle to dock.

"Bounty hunter, does this Lambda's thrusters only go this fast?" She says making sure it didn't sound like she was losing her temper. Lana looks over her shoulder and shakes her head, "They're at full power… ma'am." B'el Sah exhales through her nostrils and keeps her deadly stare fixed on the datapad. 

Tharan goes over to Otto and pats him on the shoulder, "Say what you will about the rebels, but they have some of the most comfortable fatigues." Tharan says with his grin intensifying. B'el Sah grits her teeth, a vain becoming more present on her neck.

Tharan lines up behind B'el Sah and says loudly, "In fact, I'll probably wear these as my new pajamas from now on." B'el Sah's grip on her datapad tightens, "If you two weren't so valuable to Commander Faux, I'd personally put your heads on spikes for this blasphemy." She says in a low, terrifying tone.

Ki'Wul En makes sure not to say a single word during this exchange, and gets up when Otto walks over to her; but a small smirk formed on her lips. The tall agent nudges her over to the line, and stays behind her. Tharan shakes his head behind B'el Sah, "Never a sense of humor." "Not when it involves mockery of our duty and way of life, Agent," she snarls. 

The near obsolete Lambda shuttle - still broadcasting the imperial signal - eventually reaches the hangar of one of the few star destroyers that survived the Battle of Endor. It wears its battle scars as a reminder to everyone on board that no matter what the Jedi and their terrorist cells do to the Empire, they will always prevail.

Lana follows docking procedures and their ship lands without a hitch. "Come, Miss Jori," Tharan orders. She opens the ramp and exits out of the pilot's seat. The bounty hunter takes her place in line between Tharan and Ki'Wul En.

Lana looks away when she sees her and starts covering up her face. The Twi'lek could see clear as day that the Kiffar is ashamed of her current actions, and just wants to hide from it all. 

Once the entry ramp is fully down, the group begin their march out. They are greeted by two opposite rows of the hanger's: engineers, pilots, guards, stormtroopers, worker droids, and lower ranked officers. All standing straight and readying to salute.

The three ISB agents march through with heads held high, beaming with pride. Ki'Wul En looks at her new surroundings, the almost dead silence and oppressive, claustrophobic atmosphere weighing on her. Lana keeps up pace with her head hanging as low as it can go. Not wanting to eye any of these hopeless slaves to a dying regime.

Once the five reach the end of the hanger, they see an imperial naval officer whom they don't recognize, and the star destroyer's captain: Imperial Naval Officer, Captain Dorgia. Tharan has his little group form up side-to-side and stand in attention. Lana followed suit before Tharan could 'remind' her again. The three agents give a salute of their own shortly after. 

Captain Dorgia steps forward as life and sound return to the hangar and salutes the agents back. "At ease, agents," he says after his salute. The three follow their captain's command. "We've received your report.

Excellent work, all three of you," the captain says with a hint of disinterest and boredom in his eyes. The officer next to him grins, swiping through some notes on his datapad. "And we're receiving current reports that rebel ships returning to the sector's asteroid field have been captured. All passengers on them - many liberated slaves - are going under processing as we speak. Oh, but where are my manners?" 

The naval officer stands in attention and gives the agents his own salute with datapad still in hand. "Imperial Security Bureau Senior Agent, Davitris Tarwood. I'm here to bring the Force Sensitive you've captured to the bureau's he-temporary headquarters." He made sure the slip up wasn't noticeable. Otto nudges Ki'Wul En slightly ahead of them.

Before the senior agent could speak, the captain questions Tharan. "Before anything…," the group gives him their full attention. "Agent Tallon. We also received reports that the strike on the rebel base was close to 10 minutes off its intended mark. Explain." Tharan answers with a bow, "Apologies, sir. I saw an opportunity to get into contact with the New Republic's high command.

I decided that while the rebels were still complacent and trusting, that I would wring as much information out as I could. I believe General Madin was the one who was intended to give us an audience, but… he's apparently been quite busy." Tharan says the last words with repressed anger prevalent in his voice. Merely thinking about this general plotting various schemes to undermine the Empire's hard work made his blood boil. "I accept full responsibility for my action, sir." 

Davitris smirks at Tharan, "Hmm, a true go getter. I can see why the commander is so fond of you, Agent Tallon. As for the small delay" - he waves his right hand as if the offense was tangible - "think nothing of it. Any agent worth his salt would've done exactly what you did. Could've given those at Imperial Intelligence a real run for their credits had things gone the way you planned."

Tharan nods to his superior, "Sir." Davitris types out one more thing on his datapad before putting it away, and setting his gaze on the Twi'lek. "Now, miss…?" Otto nudges the Twi'lek again to speak. "K-Ki'... Ki'Wul En… sir," she shyly answers. "Ah, Miss En. If you would follow me to my shuttle," Davitris gestures back to the hangar. 

The Twi'lek timidly walks towards him. The senior agent tries reassuring her that she'll be fine. "Come now, miss. I don't bite." She reluctantly looks up and gives a quick nod before walking normally. "You shouldn't have anything to fear, so long as you're cooperative."

Ki'Wul En nods again, her mind still wandering and fearing what she'll see at this headquarters of theirs. "U-understood… sir." Davitris gives her a small smile, "See. You're a quick learner." Before setting off, the senior agent stands in front of the three agents and gives a final salute. "It was pleasure meeting you, agents." Tharan and his squad salute back. "The pleasure was all ours, sir," Tharan answers back. 

Once Davitris and Ki'Wul En left the group, Captain Dorgia brings back the attention towards him. "The commander left a day before your return, agents. He was called on business involving the current state of our forces still present in the Core Systems.

He'll be back in roughly over a week, and he has yet to give me new assignments for you. So - until further news develops - the next seven-to-10 days are yours. Dismissed" The agents give a final salute to the captain and he to them. "It'll be good to finally be in a proper uniform again," Tharan says with a sigh of relief.


	3. Chapter 3

Within the week, the agents unwind in their own ways. Tharan, now fully clad in his true uniform: the same double breasted tunic and trousers flared at the hips and thighs as everyone else, but his is a dull white compared to the gray, brown, and black uniforms around him. His black, knee high boots polished to a shine, and his gloves tucked within his right pocket. 

The badge of the ISB hangs proudly upon the left of his tunic. His brimmed cap was placed next to him on a desk stacked with holobooks; and a datapad containing classified documents, and personal notes. His reading spectacles reflecting the calm blue light emanating from the device. Once he finished reading one of his favorite stories published before the rise of the Galactic Empire, he looked over his notes and documents one more time. 

He briefly thumbs over the list of high priority targets he plans to dispose off. 'You've just made to the top of the list 'general,' he thinks out when placing Madin's name as 'current priority one.' The more he thinks about the commanding officers of both the Rebel Alliance and New Republic, the more it makes him wish he was deployed now to assist in their demise. 

It frustrates him to no end that the Core is all but declared as the New Republic's. 'Perhaps if I continue grooming Lana…,' he thinks but pauses this line of thought. He knows too well that Lana would turn coat if she was so much as near these powerful targets. They would be able to find her son and his leverage would be gone before he knew what hit him. 

"Not a loyal assassin, yet," he mumbles to himself, and puts the datapad back down. He props his elbows on the desk, laces his fingers and rests his chin on his entwined hands. 

Tharan looks up at the chrono-meter placed on the wall across his quarters, seeing the seconds tick away. The soft, ticking sound it makes is all that can be heard in the room. His foot impatiently taps on the floor as he exhales through his nostrils. 

The agent's eyes dart around his desk for something to distract him. He picks up another holobook at random and opens it. "From Clone Troopers, to Stormtroopers," he absentmindedly says the book's title. "Been meaning to read this one," he says to himself, and begins reading. 

B'el Sah spends her free time meditating, becoming one with the Dark Side. She strives to become a more proficient Force user in order to be more useful to the Empire's cause. It takes a huge toll on her everytime she trains, but she never wavers. 'The Emperor saw great potential in me,' she thinks to herself as blood and sweat pour from her body. 

'I refuse to disappoint!' She inwardly screams to herself; panting, seething, and growling as she continues the painful exercises. She never lets up, especially when she needs to. She had to be carted off to the medical pavilion for the 10th time when she collapsed from a combination of exhaustion, dehydration, and blood loss. 'Master… I will not fail you. I will not fail the Empire. Justice will be carried out,' were her last thoughts before everything went dark again. 

Otto spends his days practicing at the shooting range. He's back to wearing his ISB uniform that - unlike Tharan and B'el Sah's - has thick leather padding, and is more of a light gray than white. The imperial agent swaps between his prized Tusken sniper rifle and his SE-44C blaster pistol. 

Otto often goes to the shooting range to let out some repressed emotions, and sometimes his mind wanders back to old memories. 'No half measures, Stormtroopers. The Empire depends on the success of this mission, and I expect results.' A deep, booming voice in his head says over and over between its mechanical breaths yet again. 

Every other sound was deafened except that voice. Various detailed flashes senses come back: heavy winds blowing snow, the smell of blood, various corpses, flying debris, shrapnel, a dense jungle, a wounded stormtrooper, etc. "No half measures," Otto says to himself as he relentlessly unleashes blaster fire on the sturdy, burnt target. 

He pulls the trigger again and all he heard was a click. It snaps him out of his trance and he puts the blaster down. The sergeant leans against the metal bench and breathes heavily. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and combs through his long hair. 

After a minute, he takes his weapons to the workbench on the side. He tries blocking out the voice and images by making as much noise disassembling and cleaning his weapons as possible. It partially succeeds, but then older memories began to creep into his thoughts: a tall, stone building; endless screaming, and blinding flashes of light. 

He forces himself to focus on what his gloved hands are doing, but they begin to shake. Otto stops and clenches them into fists. He takes a couple more deep breaths and forces his mind to repress those thoughts for another time. 'The commander better hurry up,' he inwardly says, accompanied by a low growl. When his hands are steady, he returns to his guns. 

Lana moved over to a newly made T-4a class Lambda shuttle her captors' captain requisitioned to them, and makes herself at home. She takes her armor plates off and organizes them - along with her weapons - in the empty storage locker. 

The Kiffar lounges at the cockpit with a flask of Corellian rum she managed to keep hidden. Her half mask, goggles, and fingerless gloves resting on the ship's main console. She takes a long swig of the rum and reseals the flask. She lets it fall on the console and leans back in the pilot's seat, her hands combing through her medium-long hair. 

The bounty hunter sighs and rummages through her jumpsuit's pockets. 'Where did I put it,' she mentally asks herself. Once she found it, Lana quickly pulled her hands out of her pockets. It was a small metal box. She unlatched the top without trouble, places the box aside and holds up a small holoprojector. 

She turns it on and sees pictures of the family that once was. Herself and her son when he was four-years-old: back in happier times. He'll be eleven sometime now, all alone with no one but Tharan's vultures watching his every move. 

Memories of the holoprojector's history with Lana soon come back to her. It showed her all the mistakes she's made: constantly leaving her son with someone else while she hunted bounties, refusing to take up any other job that wasn't as risky, an almost sickening level of enjoyment in her profession, taking a job offer from the Empire that put her in this situation; just to name a few. 

She can't bare to hold the holoprojector anymore and puts it back into its box. Her breathing turns into rasps and fixes her gaze at the ground. Lana's grip on the small box intensifies, and now that she's finally alone, begins to cry. 

Her tears pour over her face, her jumpsuit, and a few drops hit the console. Lana abruptly slams her left first as hard as she can against the ship's controls. The bounty hunter croaks out in between gasps and sniffles, "Don't worry. Mommy's gonna make things right for once."


	4. Chapter 4

As the sixth day roles over, the three agents and bounty hunter are finally given something. "Agents Tallon, Sah and Mateen, report to the captain's briefing room," a female voice with a Core accent says over the star destroyer's main comms. "Oh, thank god," Tharan loudly sighs out before flying out of his desk and puts his cap on.

He makes sure not to make an embarrassment of himself when entering the halls, but does walk faster than everyone else. "Finally," Otto exasperates while getting out of his bed, and making himself look presentable. B'el Sah emerges from her room dressed only in her uniform and none of her previous embellishments.

She has her hair tied in an intricate bun positioned down the back of her neck, and has her cap on. She walks down the hall with a small smile contrasting the bags under her eyes.

The three of them enter and take their seats once Captain Dorgia does. "I've been authorized to redeploy you, agents." Tharan fights to suppress his utter jubilation upon hearing those words. The captain types something in the holoprojector and a holo image of a city planet materializes. "We've tracked several New Republic commandos to this location. The system is Taris. Nothing really special about it."

Captain Dorgia doesn't try hiding his dissatisfaction about their mission and the planet it's set on. "We have some… operatives stationed there but-" his eyes look down for a second and grunts. He quickly picks up where he trailed off, "We're still in the Outer Rim, but… these small fights are-" he stops and scowls momentarily at trying to reassure them that this is really important in the current conflict.

Tharan and the others have operated with the captain long enough to know that he prefers to be in the thick of battle, not these small operations in the Outer Rim where 'the Relentless' isn't even used for combat. As such, they really don't pay much mind to it. 

The captain gets to the point, finally chucking it out with an exasperated sigh, "High command has issued an order to us to deploy your team to discover the source of the signals, and to root out any and all enemies on this planet. It's not a glamorous job - it's not a commando raid on a rebel base - but… these things have to be done."

As Captain Dorgia continues briefing them, he's trying more to convince himself that this operation actually has importance; or that the planet is actually worth their effort. "Taris has… a populous. The populous works for the Empire; and if we lose the people we lose the labor, we lose the labor we'll start losing our ability to fight."

"So… while this may not be a more… desirable mission, it's one that needs to be done for the Empire." The ISB agents remain stone faced as the captain 'stresses' the importance of this mission. 

He absentmindedly sighs before continuing, "You'll be given a squadron of stormtroopers: take them to the planet. Squeeze who you must; just… find where these New Republican operatives are, and eliminate them however you see fit." Captain Dorgia rises from his seat - signifying the end of the briefing - the three agents stand, and salute their superior.

Even after being stationed with these three for years, it still surprises the captain that they never at the very least give a sigh towards their orders. He gives a respective nod to them and salutes back. The captain then types on the holoprojector's main systems, and the image disappears. A data card pops out of the desk and Captain Dorgia brings it up. "All intelligence you'll need about our current operations will be on this data card, Agent Tallon." 

Tharan walks over and the captain hands him it. Tharan nods and returns to his spot next to B'el Sah and Otto. He hands B'el Sah the data card and she eagerly inserts it into her datapad. "Make whatever preparations you'll need. You'll find a squad from the 999th division at the hangar bay. Dismissed."

Captain Dorgia turns on his heel and walks back to the bridge. Once the doors close behind the captain, Otto asks, "Squad leader, do we need the stormtroopers for this mission?" Tharan walks out of the briefing room and the two follow. He answers his fellow agent while still facing the halls.

"Of course we need the Stormtroopers, Agent Mateen. Someone has to die in our place." Otto snorts in amusement at Tharan's comment. "I'll get my weapons and make sure the shuttle's ready for departure," Otto says before peeling off from the group to a different hallway. 

"So what do we know about this planet," Tharan asks B'el Sah. She clicks to tongue while scrawling through her datapad's new contents. "Well, Agent Tallon: it remains under imperial control, it's Moff is one Qinn Wrillcart - nothing note worthy in his records, it's in the Ojoster sector, specifically in the Taris subsector; system - Taris, number of suns - one, number of moons - four, grid coordinates - N-7, number of trade routes - two, rotation period - 24 standard hours, orbital period - 314 local days, class - terrestrial, population - 1.7 trillion, diameter - 12,200 km, atmosphere - type one, climate - temperate, gravity - standard, primary terrain - polluted swamp lands on its surface, urban sprawl above said surface, and oceans; surface water - 30 percent." 

Tharan chuckles to himself, "No stone left unturned, I see." B'el Sah ignores him and continues, "Upon the destruction of the first Death-" she stops herself and does mock head slap. "Heh! My mistake. After the 'horrendous terrorist attack on the one - and only - Death Star, which is currently under heavy repairs."

"As well as the failed assassination attempt on our Emperor, and his right hand, Lord Vader. Who are currently hospitalized from the tragic event'." Tharan nods in approval at B'el Sah's 'correction.' She continues, "Taris was chosen, along with other city planets within the Outer Rim, as a stormtrooper and droid reserve we could fall back on. Other than that, there's nothing really remarkable about this planet."

"We'll also be liaised by Moff Wrillcart, and be taking residence within his facility. Now, if there's nothing else, squad leader, I'll be heading to my quarters to prepare, then do inventory." Tharan nods towards her direction, "I'll meet up with you all at the hangar before we depart." The two agents soon split up to their own duties. 

Otto comms over to Lana when leaving his quarters with his rifle bag slung over. "Jori, get the Lambda ready." Lana responds, "Already did. We're all set, I just need you guys here." Otto walks down the halls towards the hangar as Lana leaves the cockpit to suit up. "We'll be having a squad of stormtroopers with us this time," Otto informs her.

"How many of the bucketheads," she asks while locking the armor plates in place. Otto frowns when hearing the insult but decides to disregard it, "No idea. I assume half to maybe a dozen." Lana returns to the cockpit and places her sheathed vibro-longsword next to her seat. "Gotcha," she comms back.

The Kiffar sees she has enough free time to relax as the shuttle purrs in anticipation. She turns her seat to the right, leans back and rests her legs on the co-pilot's seat.


	5. Chapter 5

B'el Sah emerges from her quarters in record time: her long, luscious hair freed, and combed over to the right again; her hooded robes neatly folded over her, the large metal belt clasped on, her nails polished and sharpened to a fine point; and her jewelry decorating her once more.

For the sake of time, and the fact that she still had bags under eyes, B'el Sah decided it best to wait for the perfect time to do her makeup. She begins strolling down the hall with an imperial military satchel slung over, and her datapad in hand. She thumbs through what little knowledge their is about the 999th Legion and the squad they've been provided. 

Otto reaches the hangar bay and immediately heads towards their requisitioned Lambda, ignoring the passing salutes as he does. Once inside the Lambda, Otto places his rifle bag within equipment storage and goes to the cockpit. He sees Lana relaxed and all stretched out. He stops at the cockpit's entrance and says to her, "You're lucky it's me, and not Tharan, who saw you like this."

Lana opens her eyes, glances over at Otto, and waves him off. "Nah, it'll be fine." She starts bombarding the agent with questions; signifying her boredom and, re-showing her impatient tendencies. "Are they ready? Are the troopers ready? Are we getting 'em on? Are we leaving soon?"

Otto walks over to the gunnery station as the Kiffar flings her questions at him. Once situated he looks over and sternly says, "We leave when Tharan is here. Regardless of how long that'll be." Lana sighs and takes her feet off the copilot's seat. She also sits up straight: she really doesn't want to go through another one of Tharan's 'lectures.' 

Meanwhile, Tharan has just obtained all he needed/wanted from his quarters. All comfortably tucked away in a black leather fanny pack worn at the left of his waist: containing his reading spectacles, one of his more dense holobooks - a highly classified one from the imperial archives, the necessary toiletries, and has his datapad latched to its side. He exits his quarters and begins walking towards the hangar. Each of the underlings he passes stop and give a salute till he passes. 

At this point, B'el Sah has reached the hangar and saunters over to the only organized group of stormtroopers currently in the hangar - 13 in total. She looks up from her datapad and addresses the troopers, "Designate, Commanding Officer TK-161?" The stormtrooper with an orange colored pauldron on his right, and wieling the now standard F-11D blaster rifle moves forward from the front of the group.

He stands attention and salutes B'el Sah. "Seventeenth squadron of the 999th Legion reporting for duty, ma'am." She gives the stormtroopers an inquisitive look, "What is this squad outfitted with, officer?" 

The stormtrooper doesn't hesitate to answer, "Nine assault - myself included, one scout, one heavy, and two demolitions." B'el Sah nods, "Excellent. You and your squadron will be taking orders directly from all ISB agents within this operation." The imperial agent thinks it over her head and decides to message Tharan via comms.

"Agent Tallon, do you wish to have your pet bounty hunter give orders to our stormtroopers," she didn't bother hiding her irritation at the very idea. Tharan answers back, "I don't see the harm in it, Agent Sah. We'll have it be another test for her."

B'el Sah pulls back most of the anger in her sigh when hearing Tharan's response. "Understood, squad leader," the imperial woman maintained composure when speaking again. 

"Your squadron will also be taking orders from one Lana Jori - bounty hunter and our shuttle's pilot." TK-161 nods, "Understood, ma'am. What are your current orders?" B'el Sah motions them to where the Lambda is and they follow her. "Our mission objectives are as follows. Locate any and all rebel sympathizers, both within the city levels and within our own ranks."

"And eliminate them by any means necessary. Do I make myself clear, troopers?" "Yes, ma'am," all the stormtroopers say in unison as they march. "You tell us who and when to shoot," TK-161 says shortly after. B'el Sah's lips form a devilish grin, "Wonderful." 

B'el Sah and their new squadron of stormtroopers enter the Lambda and the soldiers deposit their blasters to the weapons locker before buckling in. All except for TK-161 who stands in attention in the middle of the passenger area.

B'el Sah places her satchel in one of the storage lockers, and takes her place in the system Op station within the cockpit. Otto takes out his comm-link soon after, "Agent Tallon, we're all ready whenever you are." "Delightful," Tharan comms back. 

Otto turns his seat to face the plasteel windshield, and kicks back his legs on the copilot's seat. He gives a knowing, smug glance over to Lana with a small grin. "You know you can do this until he get's here, right?" Lana turns her head to see what Otto means, and sees him do exactly what she did not too long ago.

She glares daggers and flips him off before turning back to face the main console. B'el Sah rolls her eyes at the two, and continues overseeing the shuttle's systems. Otto chuckles in response and leans his head back. "Dick," Lana says under her breath before leaning slightly back in her seat, feeling somewhat relaxed again. 

Tharan is almost near the hangar when he sees a familiar face, and an almost blindingly white uniform down the hall. He instantly stops in his tracks, stands attention and salutes his commanding officer: Commander Wilhelm Faux.

Tharan and the others had rightfully assumed he had returned when they were called in for briefing. But he figured their commander would be at the bridge, and not walking through the crew living section. 'He must've arrived only now,' Tharan thought to himself. Tharan and the others know very little about their commanding officer, and even then, what they know is mostly vague rumors. 

They know: he's both feared and respected both within and out of the ISB, he's been instrumental in maintaining order throughout what's left of the Galactic Empire, he has the accent of one who grew up within the Core Systems, but there have been rumors on whether or not he's near-Human; he wears the ISB uniform with pride and makes sure everyone knows who they must fear, and has any agent under his command do the exact same to show their loyalty and respect towards their profession. His receding hair is slicked back and pitch black, but has started graying. His facial features are like that of a hawk's, and his eyes have this unnatural looking - almost glowing - green color to them. 

Tharan sees the commander make eye contact with him and as he's walking down the hall, leans more towards Tharan's direction. He stops right at Tharan's left side and turns to look at his agent. Commander Faux salutes back and coolly says, "At ease, agent." Tharan immediately does but stays in attention, it doesn't go unnoticed. "I wanted to speak with you before you go on your team's shuttle. Going down to Taris' upper cities, going to see the Moff, yes?"

Tharan gives a slight nod, "Hard to be at ease during such troubling times, sir. But yes, we are off to see the Moff." Commander Faux gives him a slow, deliberate nod, "Contrary to what Captain Dorgia thinks, Taris is an important planet for us. Or will be once we're forced to retreat from the Core."

"The situation has become dire there, so I need you to pay special attention to something for me, Agent Tallon. Do you think you can do that?" Tharan replies confidently but makes sure it doesn't come off as arrogant. "Of course, sir." 

His commanding officer's look and tone becomes darker when methodically uttering his next words. "Moff… Wrillcart." Commander Faux says the Moff's name as though it were some sort of disease. "He is but a slug of a man. He has no spine. He has all but neglected his duties to the Empire and its subservients. Almost convinced he's in bed with the rebels slowly eating away the Ojoster sector."

"But I don't have any proof. I need you to find it for me." Tharan has a little smirk form at the edge of his mouth and nods to his superior. "Even the lowest of civilized society have their uses, sir. I'm sure we'll find one for him."

Commander Faux nods solemnly in agreement with the same methodical treatment as his previous movements, expressions and words. "Be certain that you do. Find out what Wrillcart has been up to. 'Keep' Wrillcart alive. I'd like to have a 'conversation' with him. 'Find out' what he's been up to. 'Bring' him to me." 

Tharan dissected the commander's words carefully to make sure he heard the hidden message right. 'Kill Wrillcart. It doesn't matter if he's an enemy sympathizer or not. Make it discrete. And make a believable story involving his death.' "Understood, sir," Tharan says with the smirk becoming a little more noticeable.

Commander Faux forms a conservative smile of his own and salutes Tharan again, "You're dismissed, agent. Good luck." Tharan salutes him back and nods. When Commander Faux walks past Tharan, the imperial agent hurries towards his squad's Lambda shuttle.

Whilst doing so he quickly messages B'el Sah in assisting him with the commander's plans for the Moff. B'el Sah looks over to her datapad when it pings. She opens up a new message from Tharan. 'Taris' Moff needs to have a chat with our commander,' it reads. B'el Sah's lips form a frightening, shark-like grin, 'Understood,' she types out.


	6. Chapter 6

As Tharan walks up the entry ramp, hands clasped behind his back, Otto has Lana and B'el Sah stand from their seats and be at attention. Once Tharan enters the ship he is greeted by the immediate salutes of all thirteen stormtroopers - the one catching his eye being TK-161.

He nods to them and turns towards the cockpit. He strolls in and doesn't say a word when taking his place next to the pilot's seat. Otto and the others sit down and all of them begin launching procedures.

Once they exit the hangar and receive an escort out by two TIE fighters, Tharan relays their coordinates to Lana and she pauses. Tharan notices the sudden stop in her movements, "Is there a problem, Miss Jori?" She turns slightly his way, "H-how much do you know about Taris, sir?" B'el Sah narrowed her eyes at the Kiffar and sneered, "And what do you know that we don't, bounty hunter?"

"Was that polluted mudhole your home?" "I heard this planet has aliens that have six boobs," Otto interjects. Tharan chuckles and shakes his head at the pointless bit of trivia while the other two either ignore him, or roll their eyes at him. Lana glances over at B'el Sah and glares back at her before readying the hyperdrive. The TIE fighters soon peel off from the Lambda and return to 'the Relentless.'

She talks after easing the handle forward, "The planet has a plague that's been there for nearly its entire existence." As their ship goes through hyperspace, Lana turns her seat to face all three agents. "And what exactly is this plague," Tharan questions her. Lana answers, "I knew a friend who was born in Taris' middle cities."

"He talked about this infection that sometimes rears its ugly head there. It's not as bad as it used to be, now that there's a cure, but it does pop up now and then." "Name," Otto asks. Lana replies, "Those infected are called 'Rak'Ghouls.' From what my friend told me, they look like humanoid corpses riddled with mounds of hardened, gray, dead skin; and that they spread their disease through clawing and biting their victims."

"Did this friend of yours say how long it takes for the infection to spread," B'el Sah more orders an answer than asks for one. Lana shakes her head, "No." "Do you at least know where this plague mainly is," B'el Sah says annoyed while typing down the information on her datapad for safe keeping.

"He said it's mainly in the undercity - the lowest levels of the city planet but-" Lana was going to say more till Tharan interrupted her. "Then it won't be a problem for us." The two other agents non verbally agree and return focus back to their stations. Lana was about to protest but could see this conversation was over.

She closes her mouth and turns back to the ship's main console. 'But they're sometimes able to reach even the upper cities,' she thinks to herself. While they stayed in hyperspace for the rest of the day, B'el Sah decided to get some much needed sleep. She leans back in her seat and starts dozing off.

The crew's Lambda exits out of hyperspace and the view of a planet covered in; gray metal, bright flashing lights, dark blue waters here and there, and a yellowish hue coating it all. B'el Sah wakes up upon arrival and exits the cockpit to get her things. 'Here we go again,' Otto thinks to himself with a sigh. B'el Sah passes the still standing TK-161 to the shuttle's refresher.

The officer and the other stormtroopers give a salute when she enters, and become at ease the second she goes to the refresher. As the Lambda goes through Taris' atmosphere, the crew sees the large expanse of the upper city. Rows upon rows of buildings masked with the planet's smog.

Lana looks for the shuttle bay they're supposed to rendezvous at and sees two imperial guards - looking like black dots in the morning light - signaling them to land there. Lana follows accordingly and prepares landing procedures.

As that's happening, Tharan, Otto and Lana get a better look of the state the upper city is in. On the walkway, they see: the pillars that are supposed to bare imperial banners, but only have tattered red rags; spray paint and graffiti litter nearly every wall and object in the vicinity, garbage and filth sprawled everywhere, and a statue signifying the Empire with the imperial cog pushed over and lays mostly in ruin.

They also see three figures at the end of the walkway. Lana looked over to the two agents, curious about what they're reaction is. She could see Tharan and Otto's eyes were filled with unbridled rage, but they didn't let their faces expose their thoughts. She couldn't even imagine what B'el Sah's reaction would be.

As the ship fully docks, B'el Sah returns to the cockpit fully ready for their meeting and sees what the others have seen. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes were widened, and her face began twitching uncontrollably. Her yellow eyes expressing shock, horror, and seething anger.

A rising growl can be heard from her and it made Lana's blood run cold. "Open… the ramp," B'el Sah struggles to say without it sounding like she's screaming bloody murder. Lana does so to avoid the potential ire of the imperial agent.

Otto's the first to exit the shuttle and brings up his macrobinoculars to survey the area. No potential threats are seen and as such he puts the macrobinoculars away in his rifle bag. He then comms over to Tharan, "All clear, squad leader."

The stormtroopers unbuckle and grab their weapons. B'el Sah grabs her satchel from the storage lockers, and Lana slings her vibro-longsword over her shoulder before putting her half mask up.

B'el Sah organizes the formation of their stormtroopers: two rows of six covering the sides of their superiors, TK-161 and the heavy stormtrooper in front of both rows, and the scout trooper in the back for surveillance of the roof tops.

The scout trooper readies the scanner in his helmet in advance. Blasters raised at the side and facing opposite of both sides - as per safety protocol. Tharan, B'el Sah and Lana form up in the middle, a spot on Tharan's left open for Otto.

Once they're all situated in front of the entry ramp Tharan says in a chipper mask, "And, march." The imperials march out of the Lambda and Otto takes his place next to Tharan, albeit slightly ahead of him to look out for potential dangers.

As they make their way down the walkway, the three figures meet up with them halfway: becoming more distinct and visible as they do. Two are merely imperial army troopers accompanying a well dressed man with heavily tanned skin. He's wearing a nicely made, folded silk tunic with polished boots.

His bleached hair is slicked to the right of his head. He stands prim and proper like that of an upper class civilian instead of an imperial officer. He holds a well preserved, long datapad with a fine metallic polish. The black imperial cog on the back of it is obscured by his left forearm. He quickly finishes typing something into it, and gives the new arrivals his full attention.

The imperial troopers stand in attention as the man in the finery walks up to Otto and extends his right hand. "Officer Tallon, I am assistant Zel Chambra: I assist Moff Wrillcart. It is an honor to have you here." He says with an almost practiced looking smile. Otto hides his confusion from the man and puts his right hand on the top of the assistant's datapad.

He tugs it out of Assistant Chambra's hand and turns to Tharan. This surprises the assistant but he isn't able to say a word before Otto spoke. He extends the datapad towards Tharan and says, "Agent Tallon." Upon hearing that, Assistant Chambra visibly pales and audibly gulps. Tharan smiles at Otto and accepts the datapad.

"Why thank you 'Officer Tallon'," Tharan says sarcastically and starts thumbing through it. "U-um… ah," Assistant Chambra tries apologizing for his mistake but the other agents look at him with piercing gazes. He keeps his mouth shut as Tharan takes his time reading the datapad's contents.

Assistant Chambra has to look away from the agents due to B'el Sah's harsh gaze filled with anger and disgust. The assistant can still feel her eyes on him as though they wanted to drill a hole through him. The imperial troopers accompanying Zel appear just as nervous and do their best not to shuffle in place.

'Poor bastards,' Lana thinks to herself. All Tharan finds within the datapad is an entire work schedule involving his duties to the Moff - all of them primarily being the most mundane and asinine assignments. From dressing and undressing him at the appointed hours, to feeding him like he was an infant when breakfast, lunch and dinner roll around; to wiping and bathing him whenever he goes to the bathroom, the list goes on.

Thankfully breaking this depressing, pitiful schedule up, there's contact information about the local businesses within the upper city contenants. As well as diplomatic meeting schedules and signed trade agreements with the owners of these businesses. Tharan didn't have much expectation in terms of this Moff's credibility, especially after his superior's description of him. But now he has even less.

Once he reaches the end of this schedule, Tharan sees: 'Scheduled meeting with imperial agents from the Imperial Security Bureau. Attendees of said meeting will be: Moff Assistant Zel Chambra, Imperial Army Trooper Masant Millgol - rank Private, and Imperial Army Trooper Triskol Buscolv - rank Private First Class. Moff Wrillcart will not be attending the meeting as more urgent matters have come up. Assignment Progress: Guests have arrived. On our way to greet them.'

Tharan looks back up to where the statue once stood, and slowly turns his head to look at their surroundings. He takes his time with it to make it more apparent to the assistant that he isn't pleased, and just continues the uncomfortable silence. The assistant and the troopers begin to sweat more than what the late summer weather would suggest.

Tharan finally lays his eyes on Zel who gulps again. "Hmm. Nowhere on here does it notify the: destruction of imperial property, the horrendous status of this upper level, the lack of information regarding who your appointed guests were, let alone looked like-" Zel flinches a bit at the reminder of his mistake - "or these 'more urgent' matters the Moff had to see instead of meeting his guests."

Tharan maintained the pleasant sounding attitude, but his words were as sharp as a blade when spoken. The assistant tries to answer Tharan in the way he had intended - and practiced - but fumbles. "Ah, y-yes. W-we-well… um… Sir, I-I-I'm so… sorry, um… um, Agent Tallon. Um," the assistant takes repositions himself towards Tharan's direction, and holds out his hand again. "I-I'm Assistant Zel Chambra. Um, I… I'm so terribly sorry."

"Not yet," B'el Sah says under her breath, still seething with absolute rage. Zel tenses when hearing what she said and continues trying to avoid her stare. Tharan keeps the calm facade on while taking the datapad in his right hand, and chucking it over the walkway. "Is there anything else, Mister Chambra?"

Zel reactively moves forward to try and save his datapad, but stops before he could make an even bigger fool of himself. "Or should we go see your boss," Tharan finishes. "Ah, um… y-yes, yes. Well, the… um, Moff is… well… unavailable. T-th-the business you spoke of, Ag-Agent Tallon… re-r-required his attention… on the south… continent. H-he-he won't be returning for the next… well, um… we didn't expect you till tomorrow… sir."

Zel braces himself for Tharan to continue verbally lashing him, but the agent smiles and chuckles. "Good, he won't be in the way. Take us to his quarters." The assistant repeatedly nods, "Y-ye-yes sir. We have a speeder here. We, um… the palace is only moments from here." Zel turns to his troopers and urgently gestures them to get the speeder ready now. The troopers run as though their lives depended on getting that speeder.

Zel turns back to his guests and nervously gestures towards the city, "I-If you would follow me, please." They oblige this poor excuse of a man with their eyes trained on him. He even feels the cold gaze of the stormtroopers as they walk into the city proper.

He sometimes looks over his shoulder to see if they're readying their blasters on him, or something of the like; but jerks his head back when meeting the full force of the agents' stares. The ISB agents inspect their surroundings some more and see signs of hasty cleanups in the sad hope that they don't see the worst of it.

Imperial barricades haphazardly placed on the side streets. At the entrance of the spaceport, they see empty tents, meaning homeless people and squatters are present. Several maintenance droids with vibro-washers scrubbing graffiti from the nearest buildings just now. Even with the rushed cleanup on the streets, garbage still littered every corner of the upper city. B'el Sah sighs angrily as she raises the bottom of her robes to avoid having them dirtied.

The troopers return with two speeders: a troop transport able to fit their 13 stormtroopers - driven by the two army troopers, and a long speeder for Tharan and company - driven by a worker droid embedded into the speeder. Even though the long speeder is more elegant looking than the troop transport, it has many more signs of wear and denting.

Tharan motions to TK-161 to get his squad in the troop transport. The officer nods to his superior and signals his troops to pile in. Zel opens the door for the agents and bounty hunter, "After you, sirs and ladies. Any luggage you have, feel free to place them in the trunk," he says while gesturing them to go in. Tharan snorts about the idea of imperial operatives having luggage bags filled pedestrian nonsense.

He then motions for the others to get in before he does. They do so, keeping their supplies with them and placing them accordingly once situated in. The imperial agent decides to just stand there and give Zel the biggest death glare he can. The assistant continues to sweat more profusely under the intense stare.

He tugs a bit at his collar, wipes his forehead, and pushes his loosened strands of hair back into place. To make the scene more pathetic, Zel tries and fails standing confidently and giving the air of having things under control. "P-please, after you, sir," Zel says in an almost begging tone.

Tharan lets him stew a little longer before finally getting into the long speeder. The stormtroopers enter the troop transport, six lined up opposite of each other and TK-161 holding onto one of the handlebars.

When the door shuts one of them finally speaks. "Fuckin' disgraceful," the scout trooper mutters aloud while shaking his head. Instead of reprimanding his subordinate for language, TK-161 nods. "Affirmative, 519," he says in an agitated tone.


	7. Chapter 7

Inside the now moving long speeder, Tharan and company sit separate from each other. The back of the speeder has this box-like room with seating all over, minus the two doors. Otto at the left corner seat stares through the long plasteel window. B'el Sah at the bottom right seat checks and makes any needed corrections to her makeup.

Tharan at the bottom left seat stares through the same window as Otto. Lana in the middle of the back seat holds her vibro-longsword in front of her, and watches a droid connected to the central console - that has a disabled holoprojector.

The machine pours drinks for them into clean glasses filled with ice. When it's done, the droid compresses itself and shuts off. Zel in the middle seat up against the front of the enclosed room, grabs his drink while no one else touches theirs. 

As he tries relaxing by taking a sip of his drink, Tharan breaks the silence. He still looks at the window, seeing the sorry state the upper city is in. "When did the rebels take this planet," he bluntly asks. Zel's drink goes down the wrong pipe in surprise and he coughs. When he's able to speak again, he looks over to B'el Sah and Otto to see if they're laughing at the 'obvious joke' Tharan made.

They show him no reaction to Tharan's words. He then looks over to Lana who moves her eyes towards Tharan to see if he's joking or not. She looks back at Zel and shakes her head as a warning to him. Zel answers, "I… I don't understand your meaning, sir." Tharan keeps his gaze out the window, not wanting to waste the energy in actually addressing him.

"If this was an imperial planet; there wouldn't be desecrated statues, there wouldn't be homeless wandering the streets, and squatters in most likely abandoned buildings; there wouldn't be mounds of trash everywhere, and there wouldn't be droids last minute washing graffiti off of buildings." Tharan says finally allowing his voice to match his anger. 

"If this was an imperial planet: things would be orderly, clean, up-to-date, functional. What I am seeing right now, Assistant Chambra, isn't an imperial planet." Zel puts his drink back on the central console and tries composing himself. "Y-yes, well… s-sir, you see, ah… the aliens in, in the middle cities; they've been all kinds of difficult last season."

"And, um… uh, some of our infrastructure has suffered. Ah… i-it's in dire need of repair and um… well it's all in the Moff's, um, report. W-which you can take a look at it when you arrive at the palace, of course. Uh… uh, I-I couldn't say, sir, to the exact details. I-I'm just an assistant, sir." B'el Sah closes her pocket mirror with a loud snap, causing the assistant to flinch.

"Excuses, excuses," she indignantly says to him. Zel practically shrinked in his own clothes when B'el Sah glared at him. It was only a second before she focused her attention outside the window - something that's worth her time. Otto stopped listening to them the moment he entered the long speeder.

Lana just rolled her eyes at the man and started tuning him out as well. Tharan sighs through his nostrils. If there's one thing he has grown to dislike about the Empire, it's the misinterpretation and/or failure to properly explain the reasoning behind their more human biased structure. 

It isn't because the aliens/near-humans 'look weird,' it's because organization and stability wise, humans have been more effective and less detrimental to their own people, and the galaxy as a whole compared to the alien and near-Human governments.

Many civil wars, galactic conflicts and the entire corroded, aimless structure of the Old Republic were because the majority of aliens and near-Humans in it knew only: tribal, feudalistic, or crime lord dynasty forms of governmental systems. Was the treatment a bit heavy handed, yes, but (at least to Tharan) it was necessary for the sake of progress and order.

They didn't know better and the Empire had to guide them the proper way. This bias is not supposed to be used as a mere excuse for every imperial citizen/soldier's grievances. This disorder is squarely their own people's fault, and they must accept the consequences. 

Tharan finally speaks with irritation in his words, "Aliens? What I am seeing is all because of aliens? You're blaming this all on people who can't even read what's on a credit? Is that the story you're trying to feed us?" Zel tugs at the collar of his tunic again, "Um, well… well, sir… it-it's just that we're so understaffed."

"W-wh-when we had a full legion here, well… well we could keep order, here, a-a-and they stayed within the lower levels where they belonged. B-bu-but they've been coming along - the-the lower city, and now… um, well the people of the middle city are trying to get into the upper city and it's all-it's all just… it's chaos, sir."

"T-that's why we're so glad to have you here. T-to-to help the Moff with these problems, and to put things right on Taris. W-we're honored, really. Just honored." Zel looks over to the others to reassure them that all of them are honored guests, even though everything up to now has said otherwise. 

Everyone at this point have stopped caring in what this spineless coward had to say, and even less on his hollow excuses. As the long speeder makes a turn, Otto and Tharan see remnants of an imperial bank or the like: it's monolithic stone pillars just starting to show corrosion, the interior completely barren with only garbage taking the place of whatever was sacked, a discolored outline of the imperial cog on the front of the building, showing that someone has taken the metal plaque off it, and burn marks everywhere on the entrance.

To add more humiliation to this picture is a large yellow colored poster with a propagandized image of Luke Skywalker holding his green colored lightsaber up plastered onto the building. The poster also has a row of X-wings flying overhead of him with lines of smoke behind them. The Rebellion regalia outlined over it all in light blue, and at the bottom it says: 'For the New Republic! May the Force Be With You!' 

Otto presses the comms button next to his seat and calmly says, "Droid, stop the speeder." "Stopping, sir," the droid says over the speaker, and the long speeder comes to a stop. The second it does, Otto opens the door and walks out. Zel sees Otto getting out and leans over to speak out to him.

"I-is something wrong? Um, um… it-it's really not safe to…" Otto disregards him and keeps walking toward to the poster. Zel looks over to Tharan and nervously says, "H-he really shouldn't be out. It's not safe here. Tharan ignores the assistant and focuses on what this particular part of the neighborhood is.

B'el Sah does the exact same thing and they both see that this used to resemble one of the many financial districts within imperial territories. Now it's been reduced to nothing but burnt out homes for squatters. 

Immediately after the long speeder parks to the side and it's left door opens, TK-161 bangs the wall that separates them from their drivers. "Stop the transport," he orders to the army troopers and they do as they're told. The twelve other stormtroopers get up and ready themselves - turning their safeties off.

TK-161 walks to the backdoor of the troop transport and punches the door button. The ramp falls down and 161 motions them outside, "Move out!" The troopers all nod in unison and file out. The trooper officer unfolds his blaster rifle's foregrip and is the last to exit. He comms his squadmates, "Form a defensive perimeter."

He looks to where the scout trooper is and points to him, "519, I want you on high ground now." 519 nods, "Copy, squad leader." The scout trooper turns to the troop transport and fires his underslung grapple device. He climbs up its side and crouches. He begins looking through his scope for any threat up top and below. 

After the first order TK-161 doesn't let up, "626, cover the speeder and check for injuries." The heavy trooper nods, "On it, squad leader." During his sentence, 626 turned on his heels and ran towards the long speeder. The stormtrooper keeps the orders coming, "408 and 207." The two demolition troopers stand in attention.

"Sir," they say simultaneously. "Scan the perimeter for any IEDs. If there's so much as a firecracker, I want to hear about it." "Understood, sir!" The two say in unison and pull out their scanners and move through the neighborhood. He continues in succession, "321, 604, 557, 902, 808, and 923 take cover around the speeder and 626. I want all possible flanks covered, you get me?"

"We get you, sir," they all boom before going through parts of the neighborhood the demolition team have deemed safe, and take flanking positions. 

TK-161 looks to the last two, "531 and Triple One, you're with me." "Copy," they answer and follow 161 to Otto's location. 626 reaches the long speeder and kneels at the open door. "Are you injured, sirs?" Tharan answers, still looking through the window as the stormtroopers go about their duties. "Just our pride, trooper."

The heavy trooper nods, "Understood, sir," and gets back up. 626 closes the door and comms 161, "Agents safe and secured, squad leader." TK-161 answers while jogging to Otto's position, "Affirmative, keep it that way. If they get so much as a scratch, it's your ass."

"Copy," 626 answers back and moves to the upper right of the long speeder. He unfolds the integrated stands of his FWMB-10 repeating blaster and takes a knee. "Hmm. Good genes," B'el Sah whispers to herself, genuinely impressed by the efficiency of this squadron. 

161 and his two squadmates catch up to Otto who now stands in front of the New Republic propaganda poster. "What's the situation, Agent Mateen," the officer asks. Otto doesn't give a reply and continues staring at the poster. His face is placid but his eyes are filled with hatred.

161 accepts the non answer and signals his squadmates to help form a defensive perimeter around the agent. As the three troopers do that, Otto suddenly grabs the poster and tears it down. He pulls out a lighter and ignites it, a loud hiss and a straight blue flame erupt from it.

The agent lights a part of the poster on fire and turns his lighter off before putting it back on his belt. Otto turns around and says to the stormtroopers, "Back in the transport." 

"Rodger," 161 says whilst standing and moving aside for Otto. After the agent passes them, 161 comms the other troopers, "Everyone, form up at the troop transport. We're done here. Be ready for headcount." "Rodger," all the stormtroopers reply before breaking up from their positions into small groups and line up on the transport's side.

161 does a quick headcount as all troopers reactivate the safeties on their blasters and holster. He does the same by refolding his blaster's foregrip and switches to safety. "Everyone file in," 161 motions to the transport's entrance.

The stormtroopers nod to their CO and form two lines of six. They reenter the transport in an orderly fashion with 161 taking up the rear. Once he's in, he slams the door button and takes his place at one of the handlebars again. 

Otto returns to the long speeder and the droid opens the door for him. He retakes his seat and presses the comms button again. "You may resume driving," he says dully. The door automatically closes and the engines start up again. Zel, still being a sweaty mess, wrings his hands repeatedly and avoids eye contact with everyone in the speeder.

Tharan continues looking out the window when talking to Otto. "So dramatic," he sighs. Otto doesn't acknowledge him and stares back out the window. Zel finally speaks up to continue making excuses as to why this mess isn't their fault. "We-we've been… uh, we-we've been trying to, um… t-to maintain order."

"B-but there are some neighborhoods that've gotten so bad. T-the… alien infestation is just terrible in this particular neighborhood, b-but there's no other way back to the port. And… um, well… I… y-yes, we have cleaning teams, and in fact I'll have one of them make another sweep here." The assistant goes for a datapad that isn't there anymore and interjects, "O-once we get back to the palace, of course."

'Keep tying that noose around your neck, assistant. You have more than enough rope,' Tharan says in his thoughts. He would've committed to actually saying those words had the person been worth more of his time. Throughout the rest of the ride, everyone is dead silent and it doesn't help Zel's anxiety much. But he knows better than to talk - at least now he has.


	8. Chapter 8

Soon after, the assistant and his guests reach the Moff's palace. A monolithic, ostentatious mansion at the farthest end of the district with thick, 12.22 meter (40 ft), black stone walls encompassing it. Imperial army troopers patrolling on the walls and seemed to be the only soldiers present this far within the upper city.

Only two are at guard level and they're behind an extravagant looking gate, gilded gold. When the long speeder and troop transport reach the gate, two scanners at the sides of the inner section of the wall turn on, and two red colored holographic arcs passed through them.

A loud ding could be heard and the two troops stepped aside. The gates opened inward and the transports were greeted by an expansive courtyard mixed with a roundabout. White and black patterned tiles paving its floor. Lucious gardens with exotic plants surrounded them with a couple water fountains and statues lying about.

At the center of the roundabout, the agents could see a tall, golden statue of an imperial officer in his early 40s dressed with a long cape. The statue is positioned as the officer looking out within the horizon with his cap in hand.

They recognize the badge on it as one of a Moff. A flower bed of various roses encircles it, and to add more insult to injury, there's a maintenance droid currently polishing it. 

Moffs and other high ranked imperial officers are allowed to embellish a bit with their facilities, but said embellishments were solely imperial imagery - not self-centered imagery. This current tasteless display of wealth only helped reinforce the agents' distaste for their hosts.

The 33 meter (10 story) mansion itself, pointless finery aside, is built like a fortress to withstand many siege battles. The long speeder comes to a stop at the front of the mansion. The engines begin shutting off and the doors open.

The troop transport parked itself at the bottom left of the courtyard and the troopers began piling out. Just as before, two rows of six but this time TK-161 is upfront. All of them march to their superiors' position and stand in attention, waiting for further orders. 

Zel waits till everyone is out and then exits himself. He also tries for the umptinth time to act and look somewhat presentable and respectful to the Moff's 'honored guests.' "Ye-y-you're rooms are all prepared, of course. Ah, um… if there's anything you need while you're here on Taris, um, ah… I-I would be happy to provide for you."

"T-the Moff has given me direction instruction in… to assist you as I would him. Uh… so…" He practically jogs towards the front doors and opens the thick, finely varnished, wooden behemoths. B'el Sah disregards anything this worm is saying as she looks around their new environment with glass beverage in hand.

She scowls at the whole thing and says disgusted, "Gold isn't my color." Lana snorts at the very notion that the woman who's all about presentation doesn't like the look of all this. The bounty hunter sighs and shakes her head at it all. 'What a waste of credits,' she thinks. 

B'el Sah soon adverts her attention to the approaching stormtroopers. She strolls over to them, giving a look of recognition. They stand in attention, "Excellent display, stormtroopers. I expect you'll be consistent." They all salute and 161 answers, "Of course, ma'am." She gives a small smile, "Glad to hear it."

She raises the glass to her lips than pauses. She sniffs it and briefly grimaces, 'Yet another blatant insult,' she thinks. Her eyes move back to 161 and she extends the glass out to him with a friendly facade. "Here, Officer 161. You've earned it." TK-161 takes the glass into his left hand and nods, "Thank you, ma'am," he formally says.

The second B'el Sah turns around, 161 hands the glass back to the line of stormtroopers on his left. The stormtrooper in front of the line takes it, and then passes it down. This process continues till it's handed to the sixth trooper in the line. She takes the beverage and chucks it over her shoulder.

The glass crashes against the tiles and all gardening and maintenance droids pause what they're doing to look where the noise originated. The stormtroopers remain unfazed as the agents - minus B'el Sah - Lana, and Zel turn to where the noise happened. 

They decide to just ignore it and leave it to the maintenance droids. Tharan walks up the stares with Otto in toe as Lana and B'el Sah catch up. He smirks disdainfully at the assistant and Zel avoids eye contact. "We can wipe our own rears, thank you very much," he belittles. Zel keeps his head down, his body tensing and shaking; and it seems like tears are forming in his eyes.

Otto tells to his fellow agents, "I'll be coordinating the stormtroopers before coming in." The imperial agent turns around and walks down the stairs. But he stops midway and looks up towards Lana. "Jori, you staying?"

Lana looks down to Otto then turns her head to Tharan's direction and patiently waits for his orders. Tharan nods to her with a mischievous smirk, "Enjoy yourself, dear. I know I will," afterwards he strolls through the doors. 

Before B'el Sah joins him, she had her clawed right hand grab a hold of Zel's neck and below his jaw line. Zel gasps in surprise and was about to say something until B'el Sah stares at him. He gets a full look of those dull, softly glowing, yellow eyes: the red swirls around her pupils acting on their own accord.

If a look could kill, he'd be dead on the spot, several times over. Zel tries looking away but the woman is stronger than she looks, and when he moves, her nails dig deeper into his flesh. Blood starts trickling out of the wounds and down his neck as well as her fingers and hand. "If you ever serve us poorly distilled, watered down beer again, or continue thinking about poisoning you guests because we hurt your 'precious feelings'."

Zel's eyes widen at B'el Sah's words, 'How did she know!?' She wiggles her fingers to let the sharp nails dig further in his flesh: she even started scratching the bone of his jaw. The agent continues, "There won't be a single piece of you left for anyone to find." B'el Sah's grip on the assistant's neck makes it difficult for him to gulp or even breathe. 

"I believe I speak for all of my associates when I say we'd like to see and hear as little of you as possible. Understood?" Zel's tears finally pour out and he closes his eyes while nodding to the this terrifying creature. "Good," she says less dangerously and leaves the assistant a parting gift in the form of five slash marks on his neck and jaw.

The wounds stream more blood than they did before. Zel is too physically drained and emotionally beaten to cry out in pain. "Out of my sight, servant," she orders the assistant. He shakingly bows before turning away and fast walking past Tharan who remained standing a few meters from the entrance, clutching his fresh wounds as he does. B'el Sah finally enters the waiting area of the main hall with Tharan. 

The inside of the mansion was as expected from their first impression of this place; overly done and filled to the brim with non essentials. The tiled floors are colored red and have the same polished finish as everything else. The walls are gray and white colored, thick cut marble with the edges being plated gold.

It's also the same for any visible pillars in the area. The 30 meter (100ft) carpet welcoming them in is pitch black with silver trimmed sides. Hundreds of handcrafted furniture made out of otherworldly woods laid out in the waiting room.

Each of the cushioned seats are made with silk or velvet. A fireplace made out of thick, reddish brown stone, and could fit the troop transport their stormtroopers came in has a roaring fire going.

Large golden bowls filled to the brim with various artificial fruits, cheeses, and vegetables help to give off that pretentious air of 'being cultured.' Black banners with red trimming and a silver version of the imperial cog hang at the sides of all the platinum plated windows.

An oil painting as tall as this room at the front stairs of the main hall, shows the planet of Coruscant with an imperial star destroyer hanging over head. Lamps and candle holders made out of platinum emanate a soft yellow glow in the large room.

The stairs are made of black marble with silver colored cracks within it. The brass railings on the stairs have padded leather with velvet covers. An enormous chandelier made out of clear crystal hangs above it all. 

A silver plated protocol droid enters the main hall. It approaches Tharan and B'el Sah, and gives a slight bow when finally in front of them. "Ah, greetings, visitors! You must be the guests Assistant Chambra informed me of. It is a pleasure! I am C5-H5, protocol droid, at your service."

"If you will follow me to your rooms; and should you have any requests, feel free to use the mansion's built in comms. All other droids and servants within this mansion are at your beck and call for the rest of your stay."

As the droid talks, B'el Sah takes one of the napkins from the tables and wipes her bloodied hand down. Afterwards, she glances over to Tharan, "To Moff's quarter's, then?" Tharan responds with a cheshire grin, "I was thinking the same thing. I've always been a fan of the suite!"


	9. Chapter 9

Lana and Otto move towards their stationed stormtroopers. The troopers are still at attention and give a salute once Otto and Lana approach. "Your orders, sir," TK-161 speaks up. Otto looks around the courtyard and sees that the only viable defenses are all on the walls encircling the mansion.

Dozens of heavy blaster cannons are embedded into the stone, and along the wall, imperial army troopers are armed with: megablasters, blaster sniper rifles, missile tubes - all up to date and factory fresh. Yet inside, there's absolutely nothing in terms of strategic defense.

'And we're supposed to call this lout a Moff,' Otto angrily thinks. After thinking it over, Otto knows what they should do. "I'm giving you emergency authorization of all arms, troopers and defenses within the Moff's palace. Do with them as you please and place them where you think is best. I'm going up top."

"Understood, sir," 161 faces his squadmates and hands out orders. Otto turns his head to Lana, "Jori, stay around here and comms me if any changes occur, or if anyone approaches the gates." Lana nods in acknowledgement and Otto goes back to the mansion.

TK-161 divides up the troopers. "626, 902, 408, 207, 557, and 923. Go through this palace's armory and take out whatever can be of use. 902, if any of the armaments do not follow imperial regulations, make a list and we'll have replacements be on requisition."

The group of troopers salute 161 and shout, "Sir," before splintering off. "519, Agent Mateen will have the high ground at the moment. Be on standby for whenever he's not present there." "Copy, sir," 519 nods and runs off into the mansion to station himself at the top floor. "321 and 531, stand by at the gates. If the troopers there give you trouble, stun them and move them aside." The two salute 161, "Rodger," they say before heading towards the gates.

"604 and Triple One, you're with me. We're going to have a talk with the commanding officer of these troopers." Whenever 161 mentioned the troopers of this palace, he doesn't bother hiding his disapproval of their current status. Had this been a warzone of the traditional sense, these fortifications would be slightly more acceptable. But this is a thick urban environment: no tanks, no artillery, no armies, no open plane for both sides to blast each other endlessly, no clear enemies, and surprises around every corner.

"Mind if I come?"

TK-161 and the last two stormtroopers turn to look who said that. Lana gives a wave when they see her. 161 answers her, "An extra hand is always useful, Miss." "Just 'Lana' is fine, TK," she says somewhat friendly.

'Might as well get to know these guys, if I have to work with them. Hell, they may be more pleasant company than what I've currently got,' she thinks to herself. 161 ignores Lana's statement, "Follow us, ma'am."

The bounty hunter rolls her eyes but catches up with them, wherever they're going: she didn't really pay attention to what the troopers were doing. She soon finds out when 161 and them go up a set of stairs connected to the left side of the walls.

161 finds the nearest army trooper and sternly says, "Trooper, take us to your commanding officer." The male army trooper armed with a megablaster, casually holding it with the safety off, sneers at them. "We don't take orders from the guests'-" he wasn't able to finish his disrespectful comment as 161 bashes the butt of his blaster rifle into the man's face.

The army trooper falls to the ground, dropping his megablaster and clutching his broken nose. "Chuba," Lana said under her breath: she didn't expect that. "That wasn't a request, private," 161 says with his voice lowered into a threatening tone. The army trooper glares at 161 and scrambles back on his feet.

"T-the captain will hear about this, drone," he shouts while blood comes out of his nose. "Good," 161 says completely unthreatened. Lana had always figured all stormtroopers were just mindless clones who took orders from everyone in the imperial military. 'Guess I was wrong,' she thinks.

The trooper bends down to pick up his megablaster, but Triple One walks forward and places his foot on it. The stormtrooper slowly shakes his head in warning at the army trooper. The man pauses there and glares hatefully at the stormtroopers. "Drones," was all he shouted before running off to get the captain.

Lana just had to ask, "Drones?" Triple One answers her with a proper, polite tone while holstering his blaster, picking up the megablaster, and switching the safety on. "Derogatory term used by standard infantry towards those of the stormtrooper Corps, ma'am. We're normally well favored in the imperial army, and we often seem to threaten their standing in terms of authority."

"Also, the fact being cloning facilities are still active within the Stormtrooper Corps and some clones are more… 'obedient' than others." While talking, Triple One folds the stands on the megablaster and holds it at attention as per drill instructions. "It only shows that we're doing our job when filth resort to trivial nicknames as weapons," 161 says indifferently and the other two stormtroopers nod in agreement. "Huh," Lana mumbles and then curiosity gets the better of her, "So... are any of you...?"

604 answers her before she could finish, his harsh sounding voice lifting with pride, "Only Triple One, Miss. The rest of us are born ad bread imperial citizens." 'Awfully proud of that, aren't you,' Lana thought with a small measure of scorn. "They're sufficient enough," Triple One adds with the same practiced voice. "Hah," 604 sarcastically spits out. As they wait for the captain to meet them, 161 gets an update from 902. She tells him, "Sir, we've done inventory on all useable items, and are hauling them out into the courtyard." 161 comms back, "Copy, 902. What's the damage?" There's a lengthy pause before the trooper answers her CO.

902 sighs, "Sir, where to begin? Apparently, no one assigned maintenance droids in there for years. There's several water leakages and moss has grown through the cracks. All axillary artillery and ammunition for said armaments are well preserved and up-to-date, but the same can't be said for most of the infantry's stock."

"Luckily, the barricades aren't too corroded, we can make a more effective perimeter with these. All we got to work with in terms of heavy arms are two out of 11 decommissioned E-Web blasters: the only ones that remain somewhat functional. 626 is 'brimming' with nostalgia as we speak. As for ammunition, over half of the power packs are dead weight at this point."

"Fantastic," 161 sardonically exasperates. 902 continues with , "Fret not, squad leader. The caches of detonators and landmines remain in perfect condition. If used right, we'll get good kilometers out of them. No sniper rifles or FWMB-10s were present, meaning the ones you see outside are all they have."

"What about blaster rifles," 161 questions. There's another pause till the comms flare up again, "You're not going to like the answer, sir." "Shoot," he orders. "Nothing. No blaster rifles to speak of: not even obsolete ones or spare parts we could use. My guess is the only blasters they have that're suited for urban combat are their pistols."

Lana didn't have to see their faces to know that the stormtroopers are furious. 604 clicks his blaster's settings from stun to lethal. "What about riot gear," 161 asks with his irritation growing by the second. 902 answers, "The shields are rusted and unkempt to where you can poke a hole through them with your finger, and the riot batons are just thin metal sticks that don't even charge."

"So if we requisition what we need for these whelps, it'll take two weeks, at best," 161 states as a fact instead of a question. "Seems that way," 902 affirms. "I'll file in the report to our superiors and let them decide what to do. For now, we're setting up emplacements several meters from the gate"

"Copy. Have the gate opened and tell 408 and 207 to bury several landmines both outside and inside the entrance. Make sure 321 and 531 are covering them. Tell the demolitions team to set both groups on different charges, and bring them to me." "I don't think the Moff will be too happy with us messing up his fancy tiles, sir," 902 replies derisively.

"Let him stew in it, then," 161 answers before hanging up the call. Lana can't help but smile underneath her half mask, 'I might actually like these imps,' she thought. It was more than what she could say for the ISB agents.

Just then a man - about 1.558 meters tall (5ft 11in) - in an imperial army trooper uniform. A captain's badge gleams on the black breast plate as he walks up to the stormtroopers and Kiffar. With an accompaniment of two heavily armed army troopers at his sides. He carries his helmet to his right side.

He looks to be in his mid-40s with most of his brown hair receding, and a finely trimmed mustache that's split in the middle. He carries his head high and glares down at the group, "What is the meaning of this stormtroopers?" Normally, the stormtroopers would stand attention and salute an officer, regardless of rank or division. These men, however, have never earned that right in this squad's eyes. Their insult to the captain doesn't go unnoticed.

161 bluntly states, "We've been ordered to reorganize this mess you call a defensive strategy, 'Captain'." 161 says the rank in disgust. "By whose authority, Officer," the captain shouts at them but maintains composure. "From the Imperial Security Bureau: the only proper authority that's currently on this planet. As. Your. Guests." 161 drags out his last three words to make clear the importance of that statement, and expects the captain to adhere if he knows what's good for him.

"You are out of line, trooper!" The captain explodes. "Your task is to be nothing more than bodyguards to these agents - whom, I may add - have shown nothing but flagrant disrespect to their host's assistant." "That is your duty," the captain placed great emphasis on 'your.'

"Ours, is to make sure you ingrates are safe inside these walls until Moff Wrillcart returns, and sends you back to wherever you belong. You have no authority here, and you will not bully my soldiers around at the whim of your ISB masters. Understood, drone?" 'This sculag hasn't dealt with ISB before, hasn't he?' Lana thinks to herself.

"Copy," is all TK-161 says before giving the captain an uppercut using the butt of his blaster rifle. Blood and teeth fly out as the slightly taller man falls backwards. The army troopers raised their megablasters at the stormtroopers. The three stayed completely unfazed by their action.

"Put those down before you hurt yourselves," 604 belittles. One of them immediately fires a shot and he buckles from the recoil - a telling sign. The shot sails over their heads and the stormtroopers remain still while Lana flinched out of instinct.

The other army trooper looks at his fellow soldiers on the ground, them struggling to get back up, and back to the stormtroopers. The man pales a bit then smartly decides to lower his weapon and backs a step away. 604 walks towards the trooper sitting back up from the kickback, and kicks him in the face with the heel of his boot.

Blood flies out and the army trooper is knocked out cold. 604 holsters his blaster rifle and takes the repeating blaster from the unconscious trooper. He begins the exact same procedure Triple One did with the other megablaster.

"I'll have your rank for this, drone." The captain snarls while getting back on his feet and holding his bloodied mouth. 161 approaches him and the captain tries jolting back from the stormtrooper grabbing the collar of his breastplate. He fails and 161 tugs him over to the end of the wall facing the upper city. 161 moved behind the captain's right side and placed his left hand firmly on the back of his head.

"Look at Taris, 'Captain.' It's crumbling into dust because commanding officers like you and your Moff have failed to properly rule over it's people. Order hasn't been maintained. We wouldn't be here if you were competent at your duties. What if the people pile on top of your gates? You can't kill them all - blaster cannons overheat and your ammunition supply is greatly lacking."

"What if the New Republic commandos and rebel scum you all allowed to fester within this planet find a structural weakness, and break it? Everyone inside this palace would be completely defenseless while you'd be busy with an overwhelming crowd made up of all the people from the upper, middle and lower cities!"

161's voice rises in anger as he gives the captain a wake up call. The man is speechless, "I… I-I… I-I've only been-" "The lot of you bring shame to the Empire!" 161 shouts, "You do not deserve to wear that uniform! You do not deserve to lead!"

161 turns the now meek and shaking captain and rips off the magnetically tied captain's badge on the breastplate. Lana, surprisingly, starts feeling a bit sorry for these poor sods, but only a bit. 161 tosses the dadge over the wall and the captain, once acting high and mighty, is practically wetting himself and tries making excuses.

"O-ou-our walls have no structural weaknesses… s-sir. P-please, I… apologies f-fo-for…" Lana decides to help by placing her exposed fingers on the wall to see if the captain's right. Unfortunately for him, there are a lot of exposed areas and weak points at the back end of the circular wall.

The front and sides have been maintained well, but the back hasn't received much attention for a long time. "Actually, there's close to 84 weak spots at the back of this wall. A good team of commandos and several well placed detonators could go through it with little resistance. You don't even have stationed guards and blaster cannons there." The captain's eyes widen in horror and gulps.

Everyone trains their eyes on the bounty hunter now and the captain mistakenly shouts, "How did you know!?" 161 turns his head back to the captain, "So it is true," he says with a dark edge to his words. The captain realizes he had just confirmed what Lana said and shamefully tires backpedaling from it. "Uh, I-I me-mean… w-we were just going to-" "Shut up," 161 barks and the captain flinches.

161 turns his attention back at Lana, "How did you know, ma'am?" Lana with a satisfied smirk, wiggles her fingers in front of them and says, "Kiffar." "You brought near-Human filth in here!?" The army trooper who backed away shouted - regaining a bit of courage from this 'offense.'

TK-161, still holding the captain in place, turns his head to look at the trooper and fires his blaster rifle at the front of his helmet. The shot was set on stun and only had enough force to leave a dent in the helmet. The bolt knocks the army trooper off balance and he falls on his buttocks.

He takes the helmet off and holds his head as he groans in pain. "She is accompanying agents of the ISB, making her a guest as well, trooper. As such, you will show courtesy to her as you will the agents. If you ever use such disrespectful language in our or their presence again, I will personally see to your execution. Apologize to Miss Jori, now." 161 said with frightening authority and Lana was surprisingly touched by the stormtrooper's action.

Sure he was only doing it because she's under Tharan's thumb, but it was nice to know somebody's got her back here. The army trooper scrambled to get up and stood in attention in front of Lana. He bows to her and says, "I am so sorry, ma'am." The Kiffar has the biggest smuggest smirk on her face - which no one can see - when she says, "Good, now piss off."

"At once, ma'am," the trooper says. He turns on his heels and begins running. He doesn't bother picking his helmet or megablaster up. Triple One places his new megablaster aside and picks up the third one, repeating the same procedure ingrand into his memory. He returns to his spot and holds both blasters in attention.

After that bit of needless drama, 161 redirected his ire back to the sorry excuse of a captain. "As for you," Tk-161 tosses the ex-captain towards the feet of the other stormtroopers. "604 and Triple One, take this wretch to Agent Tallon. He'll decide his fate. Transport the three megablasters to the new emplacements while 'escorting' the 'private'."

The now private army trooper's eyes were as wide as dish plates when hearing that he'll be taken to see an ISB agent. "W-wa-wait! Wait! Wait!" Before he could beg 604 dragged him up and directed him down the stairs. "Keep quiet," the stormtrooper orders while shoving the demoted trooper down the stairs.

161 turned towards Lana, "A near-Human, huh?" "Never heard of a Kiffar, haven't you," Lana tilted her head towards him and pulled her half mask down, revealing her Qukuuf. 161 shakes his head, "I didn't think there were near-Humans who… who looked… um," 161 shuffles a bit in place, a bit uncomfortable and indecisive in what to say. "Normal," Lana asks. 161 coughed and averted his gaze from her.

"Yes… ma'am," he shyly answers. "Our 'gift' is what gives us away. Sometimes the tattoos, too," Lana explains to the stormtrooper with a carefree attitude. 161 turns to her when he sees that he hasn't offended his charge. "If I may ask, ma'am," 161 requests. Lana shrugs, "Shoot."

"What is this gift, exactly? Is it how you knew the wall's weak points," he asks with genuine curiosity. Lana nods, "We can see… imprints, and I guess the past, of inanimate objects just by touching them." "How far does it go," 161 continues. Lana walks over to him and held out her hand, leaving it centimeters away from 161's blaster rifle. She looked at him and waited to see if he would allow her.

161 looks at her for a bit and moves his blaster rifle closer to her fingers. A flood of new information poured into her psyche. She answers, "Its serial number got scratched off at some point, making it unreadable now. The number was 568920341: it's from the original set when they were first deployed, the 999th were one of the first to receive these types, it's seen 124 successful missions, and 37 failed ones; you requested a foregrip to be installed on this because when you're nervous your hands shake." She looks up at him with a blank expression, "It's a bit loose now." Lana decides to not pry further and pulls her fingers back.

Before 161 could say anything in response a loud cracking sound went off, alerting everyone. An explosion went off soon after within a section of the upper city, not too far from the mansion. 161 crouches Lana down, "Get down, ma'am!" She allows him to cover her and darts her eyes around for any threats.

The stormtrooper unconsciously unlatches his blaster rifle's foregrip and searches for any threats. The other stormtroopers and army troopers went on high alert as well till 519 comms in his squadmates.

"Disregard that, Seventeenth squadron. It's just Agent Mateen up top." 161 relaxes and comms in, "Copy, 519. 923 and 557, relay this information to the army troopers." "Sir," blared through 161's comms soon after.

Lana stood back up and angrily comms Otto, "Otto! What was that!?" Otto replies, "I'm cleaning the planet." Lana looks over to 161, then the sight of the explosion, and then towards the top of the mansion. She comms back utterly confused, "Wh-what? You're blowing our… what are you doing? What're you shooting… is something wrong? Was someone coming?"

Otto only says to her, "This needs to be done. Keep the channel clear," Otto's end abruptly stops and all Lana hears is static. She turns her comm-link off and looks to 161. "I'm going up there," she says irritated. 161 nods and watches her run down the stairs, passing 923 and 557.

The two stormtroopers pass by 161 as he stays where he is. He looks down at his blaster rifle, fully realizing the unfolded foregrip's presence. "Heh," he blurts out in both embarrassment and amusement. The stormtrooper checks it to see if it is coming loose. As he moves it around, he hears jingling and clanking sounds emit from it. 161 sighs and refolds the foregrip, 'Need to get that fixed,' he thinks.


	10. Chapter 10

After giving 161 and Lana their objectives, Otto climbed up the stairs of the mansion to reach its highest floor. He requested assistance from one of the servants to lead him to the quickest way up. She humbly obliges him and within 15 minutes he was on the top floor. "Here you are, sir. Is there anything else you need?" She softly asks him.

Otto moves to the balcony overlooking the courtyard and upper city. He looks down at the golden railing and takes his gloved index finger to it. He slides it along and then looks at his finger. No dust could be seen, it's just as polished as everything else within the palace. "Nothing more. Resume to your duties," he answers her in his usual monotone. She bows to him, even though he's not looking, "Of course, sir."

The servant girl turns and leaves while Otto begins preparations. The imperial agent lays his rifle bag down in front of him and unzips it. He pulls out his slughthrower and begins reassembly. Once finished, he leans it against the railing as he rummages through his things.

Otto gets the macrobinoculars next and latches it on his belt. Next was his his long ammo belt containing about 100 slug rounds. He looks over to the paintings down the hallway and an idea arises. Otto walks over to two of the nearest wellmade paintings and takes them down.

He pulls out the nails suspending them and returns to his ammo belt. He pulls out his vibro-knife and uses the pommel to hammer the first nail in the wall on the right. Afterwards, Otto grabs the ammo belt and hangs its end on the nail. The agent drags the belt as long as it could go down the hall to estimate where to put the next nail.

Once he has it, he puts the belt down and begins hammering the other nail in. Otto sheaths his vibro-knife, picks up the belt, and hangs its other end on the second nail. 519 makes it to the top around this time and salutes Otto. "Sir," is all he says before taking a spot on the two-seated stool in front of the stairs. Once situated, he waits patiently for further orders.

Otto ignores the stormtrooper, and takes a step back to look at his handiwork with his hands on his hips. He nods and thinks to himself, 'That'll do.' He returns to the railing and his slugthrower. He goes through his bag again and slides the rifle's stands in place. He makes sure they're screwed on tight.

Otto later puts his tools back into the rifle bag and moves it to the left wall. Lastly he takes out his vibro-knife again and plants it in the left side of the railing. The knife hums violently and the railing shakes upon impact before settling down. He pulls the macrobinoculars up and surveys the upper city for any signs of: rebel activity, lawbreakers, defacement of imperial property, people not following imperial regulations and protocol to the letter, aliens, etc.

His gaze soon locks onto two children - one Rodian and the other Human - with a large, rolled up poster. The Human boy appears to be on lookout while the Rodian kid walks to the side of a building. As the Rodian unrolls the poster to prepare setting it up, Otto could see the rebel trefoil at the edge of it.

Otto puts his macrobinoculars back on his belt and readies the slugthrower, unfolding the stands and turning the safety off. As he lines up the shot, Otto pauses and looks over to his ammo belt. He refocuses on his slugthrower and pulls the bolt handle.

Otto takes the slug he had in the rifle and leans the gun against the railing again. The agent turns to his ammo belt and looks for the explosive slug. Once he finds it, he replaces it with the standard slug round.

Otto returns to his rifle and loads the explosive slug in. He repositions his line of sight to those two kids who're still working on hanging up the propaganda poster. Anxiousness and fear prevalent in their every action. Apparently the Rodian messed up in hanging it the first time, and he shakily tries again.

The Human boy looks over to him and gestures urgently for the Rodian to finish. Otto positions his intended shot in between the the two children and fires. A loud crack echoes pass the palace and into the nearest parts of the upper city.

The sound waves shake objects within the hallway and startles nearby birds. The kids stop what they're doing and yank their heads around to see where the noise came from. Shortly after an explosion goes off in between them.

The duo and their poster are engulfed in flames. Parts of the Rodian child flew all over the place. Drops of green colored blood dotted parts of the street and the side of the building. The Human child didn't receive the brunt of the hit, but was pushed back from the blast and is covered in fire.

Otto could see the boy screaming in agony as parts of his body have been split off and more of his flesh burns off. The unrecognizable form tries getting back up and putting out the flames to no avail. He soon crumples to the ground, his lungs filled with cinder and smoke as his body begins charring. "Burn," Otto softly says with the same placid look on his face.

519 looks over to Otto and immediately comms his squadmates just after the explosion. "Disregard that, Seventeenth squadron. It's just Agent Mateen up top." 161 answers back, "Copy, 519." The channel closes on both their ends soon after.

Otto pulls back the bolt handle and the slug's cartridge flies out. He hears Lana on his comm-link soon after. "Otto! What was that!?" Otto takes the comm-link from his belt and dryly replies, "I'm cleaning the planet." Otto pockets the comm-link, places his slugthrower against the railing and moves to the left wall.

He pulls the vibro-knife out of the railing and carves two talleys into the marble. After a long pause, the Kiffar comms back utterly confused. "Wh-what? You're blowing our… what are you doing? What're you shooting… is something wrong? Was someone coming?" Otto passes the vibro-knife to his right hand and plants it back on the railing.

He pulls the comm-link back up and only says to her, "This needs to be done. Keep the channel clear." He hangs up on Lana soon after and walks towards the ammo belt.

Lana turns her comm-link off when she hears static. She looks to 161 and says to him irritated, "I'm going up there." 161 nods to her and she runs towards the mansion. Once inside, she asks the servants for the quickest way to the top floor. They direct her accordingly and she runs to the top. When she gets up there she sees 519 sitting with his blaster sniper rifle placed next to him.

Upon seeing her, he sits up straight and salutes her. Lana nods and jogs past him to where Otto is. She sees him with macrobinoculars raised. The bounty hunter stands next to him and pulls out her own to see where he made the explosion. It doesn't take too long to find the site, and she sees what's left of the two children. The planet's local vermin currently taking what they want from the corpses. Lana drops her hands to her sides, anger and sadness etched on her facial features. She snaps her head to look at Otto and shouts, "Children!? Really!?"

Otto keeps looking through his macrobinoculars when responding to Lana's outburst. "They became traitors and instigators against the Empire the second they obtained enemy propaganda. This planet's inhabitants have become complacent and disrespectful to those ruling them. The quickest way to correct that is by instilling fear back into the populous."

Lana sighs and wipes her forehead with the back of her right hand. She can't really say anything to stop him, and she wasn't going to risk giving orders to Tharan's squadmates again. She looks at him and says, "C-could you at least keep the noise down, please?" "No promises," Otto plainly answers. Lana breathes a small sigh of relief as she turns and leaves. She didn't say the wrong thing this time and wouldn't face Tharan's wrath again.

As she goes down the mansion's stairs, Lana hears B'el Sah over the in built comms. "All maintenance and worker droids within the vicinity, would you kindly meet with Officer TK-161 at the courtyard?" Lana decides it best not to think too much of it. When she exits the mansion and sees the courtyard, another shot from Otto went off and she flinched at the cracking sound.

Lana sighs again and sits herself down to see what the stormtroopers are up to. She sees rows of 40 or so army troopers standing at attention. Nearly all of the worker and maintenance droids in the palace were standing off to the side.

Her captors' stormtroopers encircled the army troopers with blasters at the ready. TK-161 stood in front of all these troopers with the former captain on his knees next to him. 604 stood next to the demoted trooper's right with his blaster rifle pointed at his head.

161 addresses the army troopers with deadly authority, "Your captain and Moff have failed their duties towards Taris, and more importantly the Empire. Instead of doing anything about it, you all allowed yourselves to be inactive and ignorant of the planet falling apart around you. I don't want to hear your excuses of just following orders. Every single one of you are held responsible for the dissolution of Taris. For over 10 years, you've never reported to high command for your commanding officers' detrimental actions, and have allowed them to undermine imperial authority here! As such, we've been given direct orders from ISB to undo the mess you failures have caused."

One of the army troopers at the far right, more agitated than the others, slowly goes for his blaster pistol. 557 sees his movements despite the other troopers crowding, and fires a stun bolt on his right hand. The force of it was enough to break several bones, tendons, and veins in the trooper's hand. To pour salt on the wound, 161 had them turn off their stun setting's instant numbing feature.

He kneels to the ground and screams in pain. The other army troopers give him a wide berth with their hands raised. 161 says to the army trooper with increased anger in his voice, "You're lucky we need the numbers private, or I would have you killed alongside this insult to commanding authority! Any more stunts like that from the lot of you, and I'll turn this into a firing squad execution! Needed numbers be damned!"

The army troopers tense up in both anger and fear. The injured army trooper gets back up and uses his stimpack to help fix his swelling, discoloring hand. The demoted captain cries and snivels to himself as the tension grows thicker between the two trooper types. "None of you have authority anymore. You adhere to us now, specifically me on the orders of the ISB. You have a problem with that, I'm sure its agents will be more than happy to give you an audience. Now, you will split into two groups that'll be of actual use."

161 raises his left hand and figuratively cuts the group down the middle. "The 10 on the left will be guarding the inside of the mansion. If you can't shoot, you better make yourself a good shield for the civilians and guests within. The remaining five over here will be stationed on the new emplacements." "The 15 on the right will be stationed at the back of the wall. You'll be rearmed with the majority of missile tubes available, all sniper rifles, and the E-Webs. All seven FWMB-10s stay as the new turrets." "Thank you God," 626 mumbles to himself. "Do these objectives right troopers, and once order comes back to this planet, you will all be pardoned by the Empire for your crimes of neglect." Shortly after 161's speech, 604 steps aside for his CO. 161 walked behind the demoted captain, raised his blaster rifle at the back of his head, and fired right when he tries screaming for mercy. The trooper's body fell unceremoniously to the tiled floor as blood and gray matter sprayed from the headshot. 161 looks back at the crowd of army troopers. "Any sudden acts of retaliation from here on out will be met with lethal force by all of the 17th Squadron and the droids generously given to us. Don't underestimate your guests as well. You'll stand by and wait for further instructions by an assigned stormtrooper. Dismissed. Get out of my sight."

Lana couldn't hear most of what 161 was shouting from where she was at, but she could see where this was going. After the demoted trooper's death, the army troopers split off into two groups. One group went to the back with sniper rifles and missile tubes in hand, and the other headed towards the mansion with only blaster pistols to their sides. Lana got up and walks past them to where 161 still stood. She could see him talk to three stormtroopers - the only different looking one was the one with a datapad in their hand. They saluted 161 shortly after and ran off in different directions. Three other stormtroopers pick up the body of the ex-captain and begin the necessary cleaning procedures.

161 turns to see who's coming after resetting his blaster to stun and activates the safety. He sees Lana approaching and stands attention. "Got the place secure," she asks him, trying to distract herself from what she saw at the balcony.

"Nearly there, ma'am," TK-161 nods to her. "We just had to redirect our new assets to their objectives before finishing up our own tasks. 902's readying the droids Agent Sah procured to their new duties at the back of the wall. 604 and 557 are sorting out the cannon fodder as well." Lana nods, paying only half attention. They hear the clanking of droid feet against the tile soon after.

At the corner of her eye she sees a boy - 14 or 15-years-old - sitting on the edge of a nearby fountain with a datapad and a stylus in hand. She turns her head fully to where this teenager is and notices that he's looking back at them. When she gets a better look at him, she sees that he's dressed in fine clothing. Not nearly as ostentatious as the assistant, but far more intricate and brighter than the tunics her captors wore.

She couldn't tell what his eye color was at this distance, but Lana could see his short, wavy hair was a brighter and fuller shade of blonde compared to her dull, pale coloration. He briefly squints at them and puts his head down to proceed in whatever he's doing. Lana turns over to TK-161 and asks him while pointing towards the boy.

"Do you know who that is and why he's here?" 161 shakes his head, "No ma'am." The bounty hunter looks back at the teenager and then gestures to 161, "Follow me." 161 does as told and walks beside Lana to the fountain.

Once she's 90 centimeters (2 ft) away from this boy, Lana gets his attention. "Hey, what're you doing here?" The boy raises his head from the datapad, and stares at them with an inquisitive look. Lana walks a little closer and leans forward to get a look at what he's doing.

The boy tilts the datapad towards his chest and glares at her with suspicion in his blue eyes. "That homework? This really isn't the best time for that. It's not really safe to be out here, kid," she says somewhat friendly. He scowls at her and glances over to 161, and then to the stormtroopers at the gates.

He looks back at her with the look of disapproval still on his face and finally speaks. "You're the people my father said were coming, aren't you?" The teenager asks with obvious disgust in his voice.

Lana puts two and two together fast and answers the Moff's son, "Yes, we're here to discuss things with your father." She can see the boy had his guard up and made sure not to escalate things. The boy's glare intensifies at her, "You don't look like any imperial officer I've seen." Lana plainly says, "That's cause I'm not."

He responds to her with a pompous air mixed with his distrusting attitude, "Who are you, then? You have to tell me: I'm the Moff's son." Lana suppresses her sneer at the teenager, "Ah, you know what, I think that you should follow orders. It's not very safe out here." He snorts at her, "Of course it isn't safe. You people are here. What will you do if I don't comply? Blast my brains out in the middle of the courtyard like you did to Captain Apell? Or have your sniper blow me up like he did to whatever poor sod that was out there?"

Lana gives a heavy exhale and thinks to herself, 'Well, shit. He's a spoiled, snobby rich boy, but he's sharp.' Lana thinks carefully in how to coerce this imp boy. She nicely says to him, "We're only doing what's best for everyone in the palace's safety. That includes you. Just please go inside till everything's settled, and we'll explain everything. Promise."

The teenager glares daggers at her and says with venom in his voice, "Don't patronize me, woman. I'm not a child. You don't have authority here: none of you can tell me what to do." "Tch," TK-161 softly blurts out while still standing attention.

Another shot from the balcony reverberates and echoes throughout the palace. Lana stands back straight and gives an exasperated sigh. She checks for her comm-link and decides it best to message Tharan. "Sir, I believe we have the Moff's son out here. He refuses to get inside. What do you want me to do?"

Tharan comms back with jubilation in his voice, "The Moff has a son? Oh, oh… you must bring him to me." Lana inwardly shudders, knowing Tharan has that wide, uncomfortable looking grin on his face right now. On top of that, despite the gleefulness in Tharan's voice, there's biting authority underneath his words. 'Can't turn back now,' she thinks to herself. She replies before Tharan gets annoyed by the pause, "Understood, sir."

Lana looks back at the teenage boy and says, "You're coming with us. Don't make this difficult for yourself." The boy huffs, "Like I said, 'peasant,' you don't have authority over me. And your cloned lacky may be an officer, but he's of no 'high standing'." He stresses greatly on how low their status is compared to him.

Lana clenches her fits out of irritation of this smug brat bad mouthing his elders. The boy sees this and snorts at her, "What are you going to do? Use force to get me inside? If you two so much as touch me, my father will-" Lana suddenly punches the boy square on his nose, not allowing him to finish his sentence.

His head snaps back with his eyes briefly showing shock before rolling up. He loses his grip on the datapad and it falls to the tiled floor with a cracking sound. The boy falls backwards into the fountain with a splash. Another crack blasts from the balcony.

TK-161, instead of grabbing the unconscious teenager out of the fountain, turns his head slightly to Lana. "Nice punch, ma'am," he says with a hint of satisfaction from the bounty hunter's action. Lana cracks a smile and chuckles at 161, "Get him outta there before he drowns."

161 follows his orders and Lana goes over to pick up the datapad, now with a crack across its screen. As she scoops it up, the datapad's history flies through her mind's eye. Feelings of anger, frustration and sadness pour into her from the datapad.

Detailed, hate filled messages the boy had written, describing how his father has been treating him, and that he'll no longer take it. He intended to send them every time, but they were always deleted shortly after being made.

Many saved, beautifully made sketches pass by in her head. The last one showing a fully made, detailed, full body sketch of TK-161. Next to it is an unfinished sketch of Lana from the torso up: it has most of the scratches on her armor plates, the small wrinkles on her jumpsuit, the exposed strands of hair from her hood, the vertical lines on her half mask, the ergonomic grip on her vibro-longsword, and even her Qukuuf was done right; in spite the angle and distance he was at. Behind the two well-made sketches was a rough outline of the courtyard with other stormtroopers in it, and the body of this Captain Apell. 'Pretty good likeness,' she thinks.

161 holsters his blaster rifle and picks up the unconscious teenager. He slings him over his left shoulder and waits for Lana to direct him. The splashing of water and the pitter patter of droplets snap Lana out of her thoughts of what she saw.

She can't look at this kid the same way now. 'He's a punk… but…,' she thinks conflicted. It was just easier for her to think of him just as some imp's privileged son who liked to run his mouth.

The mother in her instinctively thought about getting him out of here, but she had already sealed his fate when telling Tharan about him. She has a vague understanding of what he'll do to this kid, and that breaks her heart. "Let's go," she says to 161 with no feeling into the words. The Kiffar maintained a stone face when talking to 161, but once she turns around she quickly pulls her half mask back up. Otto fires another shot.


	11. Chapter 11

C5-H5 leads Tharan and B'el Sah through the mansion's interior to the living quarters. However, the two stop following the protocol droid when they discover the hall leading to the Moff's chamber. It wasn't too difficult to tell it was his from the large, platinum doors with golden filigree all over.

The two agents go down this hall and are soon pestered by the droid when it sees they've stopped following it. "Ah, but sir and madam, your quarters are this way. These are Moff Wrillcart's quarters. He will be back in an estimated 20 hours; 27 minutes; 12 seconds; and .08 milliseconds." Tharan and B'el Sah ignore the droid as they head towards their objective.

The droid continues prattling, "Afterwards, he will speak with you then. If you wish to speak with him now, arrangements can be in order." Tharan unclasps his hands and grabs both door handles. While still keeping momentum, he twists the handles and pushes the door in with little exertion.

The three are quickly assaulted by the sheer concentrated splendor of the Moff's living quarters. Nearly everything in the room is cleaned and polished to a blinding, mirror shine. A massive wampa skin rug leads them into the quarters. Golden tiles littered the floor and walls with precious jewels embedded between them, cut to match the flat smoothness of the floor.

A fireplace similar to the one in the main hall but regular sized is at the left of this room: the gold tiles of the wall and its red colored stone appearing as though they bleed into each other without ruining the look of either. The chairs near it are identical to the ones at the main hall, but with more fatuous decoration added to them.

A double king sized, four poster bed with dark red silken sheets hogs a majority of space at the left of the chamber. A small, light brown night stand with a finely made, white gold doily on top of it resides to the bed's left. Another crystalline chandelier hangs above it all with intricate filigree all over it, and pure white flames emitting from the black colored candles.

Two rows of small lamps made out of a metallic green colored precious metal decorate both sides of the room. The contrasting colors of the lamps and tiles bleeding into each other like the fireplace.

The royal purple colored drapes match the length of the two gigantic windows plated with a reflective, black colored precious metal they've never seen before. A desk half as long as the chamber sits in the middle of it all. It appears to have been hand crafted as well from an almost black colored wood.

An immodest oil portrait of the Moff himself hangs behind the desk and between the two windows, matching them in titanic scale. It shows him standing proudly in his uniform with a look of oppressive authority. He holds a blaster rifle at attention with a stormtrooper helmet beside him on a small wooden table with other imperial decorations.

Next to all of this at the right is a wide holobook shelf with dozens of holobooks socketed into place. The wood from it is as white as the snow from Hoth.

"How gauche," B'el Sah says under her breath as she looks over the room. The only things that don't offend their eyes at first glance is a standard, red imperial banner that hangs to the bottom right of the chamber. And a medium sized painting of the Death Star's successful test run in the Albarran sector hanging above the fireplace.

As they enter, a Nexu cub stirs awake from its sleep. Upon seeing Tharan and B'el Sah it rises from its bed and stretches before walking over to them. It sniffs at them before rubbing its head on Tharan's right leg and begins purring.

Tharan squats down and pets the creature with a genuine warm smile on his face. The Nexu purrs louder and leans in, demanding more.

Tharan turns his head and looks up at C5-H5. "All the non essentials, remove them from the room," he says casually with a wave of his left hand. The droid jerks in response to signify its surprise and shock from Tharan's order. "But, sir… I… Apologies, but… what?"

Tharan repeats but in detail this time, still petting the Nexu that's laying down next to him now. "The ridiculously large bed, the rug, the drapes, the portrait, the accoutrements - remove. The banner and painting by the fireplace can stay, as well as the desk and bookshelf. Be sure to bring more sensible bedding and chairs."

Tharan looks back to the Nexu, "This adorable, vicious creature can stay. Be sure to refill the food and water dishes for it." B'el Sah chimes in, "We'll also need painters to cover every corner of the room - steel gray will suffice. And have them paint the door while they're at it. Black will do. Also, do not touch wherever the Moff keeps his wine here."

C5-H5 is on overload from the agents' outrageous demands, looking around and shaking whilst processing it all. "B-but… but sir and madam… t-the… Moff Wrillcart is… quite particular about his accoutrements, and the-" Tharan interrupts him, "Good! Then he can have it all in a room down the hall."

"But, but…," the droid tries protesting further without offending its master's guests, but Tharan doesn't allow it to continue. The agent stands up, clasps his hands behind him again and faces the droid. "'Would' you 'kindly' see to these for me," Tharan phrases, activating a secret ISB override system.

C5-H5 momentarily shuts down and reactives with its yellow ocular sensors turning red. The droid soon stands at attention and its vocal processors shift from a soft spoken octave, to a deep, reverberating drone. "Yes, sir. As you wish." C5-H5 turns around and walks down the hall to acquire the necessary materials and servants for these tasks.

The Nexu cub gets up and rubs itself alongside Tharan for more attention, but the agent lightly shoos it back to its corner. Tharan walks to where the closet is located, "Do what you do best, dear. Find us his secrets." He opens the closet door and switches the light on.

As he enters the closet to rummage through the Moff's finely decorated, beautiful formal wear for anything of note, B'el Sah goes over to the nightstand. She opens up the drawers and finds a two generations old datapad - Pre Empire tech. "Ooh," now this peeks her interest. She picks it up and ejects the data card out of it.

Once she has it, she nonchalantly discards the out-dated piece of hardware, and inserts the contents it had into her datapad. What she skims through is nothing of worth - a personal journal about the Moff's days before the rise of the Empire. 'His grammar needs work,' she thinks to herself.

Any files that could've been of interest within the data card have been corrupted for years. B'el Sah closes her eyes and gives an exasperated sigh, 'Of course.' She takes the data card out and chucks it over head.

"Worthless," she says aloud as the data card crashes on top of the tiles. Tharan moves the jungle of expensive clothing aside as he moves deeper into the closet. At the back, he sees a wide, black box. "And what skeletons do you hold," he thinks out loud.

B'el Sah goes for the bookshelf next and looks through each socketed holobook. She accesses imperial archives to see if the volumes follow the banned literature lists. They all check out except for the bottom shelf which has only holoprojectors. 'That's more like it,' she thinks while putting her datapad away and picking up one of the projectors.

The agent opens it just as Tharan reenters the chamber with a big box in his hands. As the projector plays an 'interesting' video, B'el Sah's eyes widen in surprise and shock. She instantly shuts it off and lets go of it.

The projector falls to the floor with a clinking sound and the agent has her hands raised as she shudders. Tharan looks over and sees B'el Sah shaking and the projector on the floor. "Found something," he questions her.

B'el Sah gingerly picks up the 'unique' holoprojector with only her thumb and middle finger, and quickly slots it back in its spot. She turns to Tharan and tries regaining her composure. She gives a controlled exhale before replying. "Avoid the bottom shelf," is all she says before moving to the desk.

Tharan takes the hint and snorts at B'el Sah's discomfort. "And the other shelves," he asks with a mischievous grin on his face. She answers him as fast as possible but makes sure it sounds steady. "All holobooks follow banned literature guidelines. Now, if you don't mind, Agent Tallon, I have work to do."

With that she begins looking through the desk's drawers for something to distract herself with. Tharan chuckles a bit at B'el Sah's expense and focuses back on the box he brought in. The unlatches the top and opens it.

All he sees is a neat pile of women's clothes with a glass perfume bottle to the side. 'Cross dresser?' Tharan asks in his own thoughts as he picks up the bottle and sees only a tiny amount of liquid still left in it.

B'el Sah opens every drawer in succession, not finding much in each of them. Until she opens the seventh one. In it contains only a small black lacquered box. 'Please be something,' she thinks while picking it up.

All she finds when opening it is an engraved wedding ring made out of a silver-like precious metal and a blue stone atop of it, and a golden locket. The agent picks up the locket and sets the box on the desk. She opens it and sees a small holoprojector within.

The device activates and a looped display of what seems to be a younger looking Moff kissing his bride on their wedding day. B'el Sah closes it and says over to Tharan, "How quaint." She dangles it by the chain as Tharan turns his attention from the perfume bottle. Tharan holds out his left hand and B'el Sah tosses it to him. He catches it and opens to see the same loop.

"Now I see," he mutters while mentally piecing this puzzle together. He stands and looks around, "There's no paintings of her. Or of them together. Of all the frivolous nonsense here, you'd figure he'd proudly display that."

B'el Sah looks to their archives to see what they have on the Moff's wife. Her eyebrows furrow at the results, "Odd. There's no record of her, or of the Moff's marital status. Seems Mister Wrillcart wanted to keep her to himself." "Nevertheless, it could be decent leverage for later," Tharan replies while putting the two items in his left pocket.

C5-H5 returns with a large entourage of servants. They begin work once entering and the agents momentarily step out of their way. The painters with their extended vibro-brushes sweep the tiles, instantly covering the polished gold with a quick dry, dull, steel gray coating.

Everything Tharan listed out gets carted off to a nearby guest room. As Tharan instructed, the banner and average sized painting are left undisturbed. After several silent minutes, all that remains to be finished is painting down the entire room.

B'el Sah walks back to the desk and delves into her satchel to find her slicing gear. Once she has herself situated in front of the computer, she begins her data crunching. Tharan waits patiently for results as the new, normal sized bed is brought into the chamber, and is placed where the behemoth of a mattress used to be.

After her failed fourth attempt, B'el Sah grows irritated by the Moff's main computer. "Trouble," Tharan dryly asks. B'el Sah maintains her composure, "It would seem the Moff has upgraded past advanced imperial security measures. Even my slicing gear can't crack its code. Meaning he's hiding something substantial here." She finishes her sentence with dead certainty.

The agent looks past the computer to where C5-H5 is standing and addresses it, "Droid." It walks towards the desk and stands to B'el Sah's right. She puts her slicing gear back into her satchel and stands behind the seat as it approaches. "What can I do for you, madam," it drones out.

"We need to access the files within this computer. Are you able to do it?" It looks over to the computer and then back to the agent. "One moment, please," it says before accessing its own information relating to the Moff and his computer.

After several milliseconds it turns to B'el Sah. "Apologies, madam. I am not equipped with the necessary information to break Moff Wrillcart's security." B'el Sah sighs, "Bloody useless." The droid bows to her, "Yes, ma'am. I am."

B'el Sah shrugs at Tharan, "We'll have to find another way." Tharan nods, "And we will." Two servants bring in four simple, metallic chairs to replace the ones the fireplace had. Tharan redirects them, "Place those in front of the desk." The servants nod and follow without a second thought.

A loud cracking sound echoes from the top of the mansion. It lightly shakes the chandelier in the Moff's quarters. The servants reactively flinch, but see the agents are unaffected by it and soon proceed as is. B'el Sah looks up, "It seems Agent Mateen has made himself at home," she says matter-of-factly. They hear an explosion soon after. "Indeed," Tharan replies.

Once the room is stripped bare of nearly all its finery, the servants begin exiting. A stormtrooper with a datapad in their hand brushes past them to enter the chamber. Tharan sees the trooper and motions B'el Sah over, "I'll let you handle this one."

The agent takes his place behind the desk and tries his hand at the computer's password. B'el Sah meets the stormtrooper who stops in the middle of the room, standing at attention. The trooper also salutes as B'el Sah approaches. "902, reporting on the status of the palace's inventory, Agent Sah," she states. "Show me," B'el Sah says with her arms crossed. 902 hands her the datapad and the agent thumbs through it.

B'el Sah clicks her tongue when seeing the horrendous status the palace's equipment for their infantry. "At this point, I'm not surprised," she says to no one in particular. She looks up at the trooper, "What do we need right now?"

902 doesn't hesitate, "Ammunition is top priority, ma'am. Proper riot gear would do well in any operations we'll have within the upper city. However many blaster rifles that can be spared would also be put to great use. As well as more medical supplies for the field." B'el Sah gives the stormtrooper back her datapad, and pulls out her own.

"I can pull a few strings and have these supplies delivered within a week, should no problems occur. Until then, trooper, you work with what you have." The agent presses 'send' shortly after. 902 nods, "Understood, ma'am. I also come with a message from Officer TK-161."

B'el Sah puts her datapad away, "Speak, then." "It has been discovered by Miss Jori that the wall surrounding the palace has numerous structural weaknesses at the back. He requests all available droids to be used for the restructuring and reinforcing of the back wall."

B'el Sah walks over to the built in comm in the chamber and says the secret phrase. "All maintenance and worker droids within the vicinity, 'would' you 'kindly' meet with Designated Officer TK-161 at the courtyard?" She lets go of the button and turns to 902, "You have your droids. See to them however you wish. The 17th Squadron of the 999th, and the palace guards didn't hear that. Understood?"

902 remains at attention, "Understood, ma'am." B'el Sah gives a little smirk, "Dismissed." 902 gives a final salute before exiting the chamber.

Sometime later, as Tharan finally gives in after exhausting every possible avenue of password ideas. From: I3Skywalker, to FortheNewRepublic, to MakeitRainCredits, to DownwiththeEmpire, to Fluffy - the name on the Nexu cub's collar, to RebelsRule, to the Moff's own name, to StarDestroyer69 - don't ask, to TheEmperorSucks, to VaderisaPusi, to WhoShotFirst, to Republic4Life, to ScruffyLookingNerfHerder, to urMyOnlyHope, to NoDisintegrations, to TheForceBeWithYou, to ClonesareDrones, to 12345, and even 54321.

This is just naming a few he went through. Tharan leans back in the rolling chair and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Having fun," B'el Sah asks with a smug smirk on her face. Tharan glances over to his fellow agent who's sitting casually on the edge of the bad. "Loads," he responds with a snappy comeback. Before the two can exchange their occasional banter, there's a knock at the now blackened doors.

"Come in," Tharan boredly says to whomever's behind the doors. Two stormtroopers open the doors, briefly standing between an imperial army trooper with a bloodied mouth. Their blaster rifles are drawn and are somewhat facing the man they're with.

When the doors fully open, they move behind the army trooper with their blasters still aimed at him. Tharan leaves the desk and meets the troopers at the middle of the room. The stormtroopers stand at attention while the man between them is slumped forward and visibly shaking. The stormtrooper at his right grabs the army trooper by his shoulder and forces him on his knees. "And what have we here," Tharan asks his soldiers.

The one on the left (Triple One) answers in his mild sounding voice. "This is the former captain in charge of the palace's security and trooper infantry, sir." B'el Sah perks up when hearing this. She exits the edge of the bed and stands beside Tharan, "Former, you say?"

The stormtrooper on the ex-captain's right (604) speaks in a disgusted tone coupled with his gravelly voice, "Affirmative, ma'am. This wretch is one of the reasons this palace is so ill secured from within. As well as the state of Taris."

The former captain shakes with anxiety and tries explaining, "I… I was only following-" 604 smacks him with the butt of his blaster rifle. A small splash of blood paints the gray floor.

The demoted trooper winces in pain before the trooper on his left grabs the collar of his armor and yanks him back up. "Quiet. You speak only when spoken to," the 604 says with a razor edge to his words.

"Just following orders," B'el Sah asks with no clear emotion in her words and lifts an eyebrow. The army trooper looks to the stormtroopers to see if its alright to speak. Triple One warns him, "It's impolite to keep a lady waiting."

The ex-captain takes the hint and blubbers to B'el Sah, "Y-yes ma'am. Moff Wrillcart specifically ordered me to keep a small force within the palace, and to focus primarily on the safety of the gates. I was forced to leave many of my men and fellow officers outside the palace to fend for themselves. I… I-I couldn't deny his orders: that would be treason."

604 lifts his blaster to strike him again. The demoted trooper flinches in expectation but Tharan stops 604 with a raise of his left hand. The stormtrooper complies and stands back into attention. "Your duty was to the Empire, 'captain'," Tharan utters the rank with disdain.

The former captain flinches as though the word physically hurt him. Tharan continues with his voice slowly rising with anger, "When your Moff makes ill advised judgements and refuses to see reason. And/or begins to allow the planet under his governing to fall into such a state of decay. You should have informed high command."

"But you didn't, for over 10 years. We were brought here only because an anonymous informant told high command that Taris was in dire need of repair, as well as the New Republic signals freely broadcasting from the planet. As if to say to the galaxy: 'We've already won! Taris belongs to the New Republic now'!"

The declassed trooper begins crying at the crushing weight of Tharan's words. "Pathetic waste of space," 604 freely says with little regard for any consequence in speaking out. Instead of threats or a reprimand, the agents seem to agree with his statement, and thus allowed it.

"Truer words were never spoken," is all B'el Sah says to contribute to this. Tharan turns on his heels and walks back to the desk, signifying this conversation to be over. "Have him executed in the courtyard for all to see. Make sure the army troopers know who's really in charge. Enough time has been wasted on them, so make it quick and to the point. Dismissed."

The stormtroopers salute the agents and pick up the displaced trooper who attempts to speak up, but isn't given a chance. "W-wa-w-wait," he shouts while being pushed out the door. "Wait! P-please, sir! I-I-I did nothing wrong! Please!"

The ex-captain's words fall onto deaf ears as 604 roughly shoves him forward with his blaster still trained on him. Triple One holsters his weapon, turns to face the interior of the quarters, and grabs both door handles to close the doors behind them. The only sounds that were heard was the closing clank of the metal doors, and the now muffled pleas from the disgraced captain.

The rest of Tharan and B'el Sah's time was dedicated in figuring out what to do with the Moff's personal computer. The aqua colored screen stared back at Tharan with a black imperial cog atop a blank space for a password, as if mocking him for not figuring it out. B'el Sah checks the Holo-Net to see what she can find about top tear anti-slicing security systems only available at the black market.

As this happens, another shot rings out from the top floor, causing the chandelier to lightly sway again. B'el Sah decides to take a break from searching the Net and goes to find where the Moff keeps his wine.

She finds the switch to a compartment next to the fireplace, and out comes a two rows of wine bottles with glasses and ice to the side. The agent takes her time looking through the Moff's selection. One bottle in particular catches her eye. A red-violet colored wine bottle with a green label.

The words on it are written in gold and say: 'Alderaan's Nectar.' 'Alderaani wine? Quite rare,' she thinks as she picks up the bottle and examines it closer. This bottle was obtained before the Clone Wars - it's nearly 70-years-old. B'el Sah comments to Tharan, "Say what you will about this Wrillcart fellow…"

"And I shall, liberally," Tharan interjects, still focused on the computer as he types out one more password. "He at least knows his beverages," B'el Sah finishes. She picks up one of the glasses and scoops up some ice from the bucket.

She walks over to where the switch is and presses it. The lineup of drinks and glasses soon retract into the wall, and B'el Sah saunters over to the desk. She rests the glass down and opens the top without much fuss. Tharan raises an eyebrow at her, "A bit early, don't you think?"

B'el Sah lets the bottle sit on the table to breathe, "Considering everything we've seen and heard up to this point in just two-to-three hours… no. Now is a perfect time to drink this mess away."

She takes the bottle and slowly pours its contents into the glass. A third shot booms through the palace grounds. As B'el Sah takes a sip of the bright green beverage, Tharan's comm-link buzzes. Tharan activates his comms and hears Lana's voice. "Sir, I believe we have the Moff's son out here. He refuses to get inside. What do you want me to do?"

B'el Sah stops mid drink and looks over to her fellow agent with an inquisitive look. Tharan's lips form a wide, sinister grin at the news. He replies, "The Moff has a son? Oh, oh… you must bring him to me." He makes sure the demand is neatly layered under his cheerful attitude.

Lana replies before Tharan gets annoyed by her lingering pause, "Understood, sir." B'el Sah takes another sip and glances back at Tharan, matching his vile grin with her own. "Hmmm. The plot thickens, then," she says in a wicked chuckle.

Tharan leans back in the rolling chair and forms a pyramid with the tips of his fingers, "Another tool we can use." He also notices another thing involving the Moff's paintings and sentiments. "His son was also neglected in the paintings, nor any sentiments like he has for his wife," he thinks aloud.

"And," B'el Sah decides to humor his observation and takes another sip of wine after asking. Tharan looks over to her with a sly smirk, "Simple, my dear Agent Sah, the boy could be more malleable than we had hoped." B'el Sah's eyes spark with realization before hanging lazily, her lips forming a shark-like smile.

Two more loud cracks blast from the balcony within the meantime. "Sir, where are you located," Lana comms in shortly after. Tharan answers back, "The Moff's quarters, dear. Have one of the servants lead you here. I do hope you'll like the change in décor."


	12. Chapter 12

A male servant leads Lana and TK-161 down the correct path to the Moff's quarters. 'Did they really have to make finding everything so elaborate,' the bounty hunter thought to herself. The servant stops at the hall leading to a blackened door and gestures with his left arm.

"This is the hall to Moff Wrillcart's quarters, madam and monsieur," he says with his body at a half bow and averting his gaze from them. "Save me the 'Core' talk," the Kiffar says under her breath whilst passing him. 161 follows her silently down the hall, parts of his armor and under armour still wet from the unconscious boy's drenched clothes.

Even though she latched the kid's datapad on her belt, what she felt and saw still linger within her mind. She uses all of her mental strength in pushing them to the back of her mind. Upon reaching the door, Lana became hesitant about placing her hand on the handles. 'I don't wanna see more,' she tells herself.

She glances over to 161, "L-let me carry him. You get the doors… please." 161 doesn't question her and does as told. Lana slings the teenager over her left shoulder just as 161 pushes the doors open. Tharan and B'el Sah stand in front of the desk waiting for Lana, and more importantly their new plaything.

161 moves to the side for her and as she walks in. Lana could see what Tharan meant by 'decor changes.' It almost looked like every imp's office she's seen since being under their control. 'Must've looked fancy and expensive beforehand,' she assumed while taking in the sheer size of the room.

Her gaze falls onto the bed and the bounty hunter strolls over to dispose her quarry. Droplets of remaining water fly when she lobs him on the mattress. Now that she is able to observe him, she sees blood trickling down from his crooked nose. Lana looks over to Tharan and gestures to the teenager, "Here he is."

The two agents simultaneously give the unconscious teen a look, and then back to Lana, completely expressionless. Suddenly the two crack up with the loudest and longest laughs Lana has ever heard from them. B'el Sah tries calming herself down before her makeup starts running, bringing herself to a giggle.

Tharan, on the other hand, doesn't let up for a solid minute. Lana stares at the two confused, "S-sir?" At the end of Tharan's laugh he says to her with a few chuckles between his words, "Ah, there… there maybe hope for you yet."

B'el Sah takes another sip of wine as Tharan struts over to the bed. He gives the boy a few light slaps to his left cheek to wake him up. While he's doing that, B'el Sah sees the datapad Lana has in her belt. She snaps her fingers at the bounty hunter and holds out her hand for the device.

Lana looks at her with a hint of annoyance on what little facial features can be seen. But the bounty hunter complies and walks over to B'el Sah. She holds out the datapad and the agent snatches it. B'el Sah lays her glass on the table before looking the datapad over. Lana sighs relieved and her body loosens up as if a large weight on her shoulders was finally removed.

It didn't take long for B'el Sah to come to a conclusion that there was nothing of worth on it, rolling her eyes at what was provided. She carelessly tosses it to the side and goes back to her drink. The datapad falls with a loud crack and clanking sound. Sparks and pieces of it flew out. Lana clenches her hands briefly towards the act, but releases them before anyone could see them.

The two hear groaning come from the bed and turn to see the teenager squirming. Tharan can see clarity return to the boy as he awakens and sits himself up. Shortly after, he grabs his nose and grunts in pain. The boy looks up and sees that he's in his father's room, but is confused by how it looks.

He shakes his head a bit and blinks repeatedly to see if it's just his eyes playing tricks. Sure enough, it isn't. He begins looking around to get his full bearings. The teenager sees Tharan standing next to the bed with his arms in the same position behind his back, and B'el Sah leaning against his father's desk with glass still in hand.

He also sees a familiar dark green jumpsuit with dull purple armor plating. The boy briefly wipes his nose and looks at his bloodied hand. A brief glimmer of surprise forms on his face before being replaced with seething anger.

He looks at her again, "You struck me." Lana's shoulder's slump a bit and she meekly looks back at the kid, "S-sorry. You're um… your artwork… it's pretty good." Lana says trying to fix what had happened. It doesn't work, not that she was expecting it to. He glares hatefully at her and she averts from his gaze. "Spoke too soon," B'el Sah mumbles to herself before taking another drink.

The boy looks over too Tharan, wiping more blood from his nose, "Are you the officer in charge of all this?" The teenager uses his left hand to gesture at the room while speaking to emphasize his point. Tharan doesn't acknowledge the boy whilst having the biggest grin on his face about the whole situation. The boy yells at him with increased agitation, "I asked you a question, officer!" Tharan glances over to the teenager with his smile beginning to fade.

"And what rank are again, milord," he asks in a condescending tone. The boy repeatedly nods to himself, "T-that's right! That's… I am… when my father is absent, this is my palace! I-I'm the son of a Moff, and you'll do as I say!" Tharan looks around the room before focusing his attention back on the boy, "So this is your palace we've taken with little effort, and now reside within this wonderful room? Was this your room?"

The boy's faces scrunches up as though Tharan had asked a trick question, "We both know it's not." Tharan retorts, "So this is your father's palace, then?" The teenager becomes frustrated by this back and forth, "Well, yes, but when my father's absent for whatever reason, I take up responsibilities in his stead. Ask any of the house staff!"

"I will," Tharan says with smug assurance and turns to where C5-H5 stands on sentry. "Protocol droid, who's in charge now?" "The Imperial Security Bureau and its agents, sir," the droid answers with the same grinding drones. Tharan looks back to the boy with an unsubtle look of superiority, "Well, guess we have our answer."

The boy punches the mattress and yells out, "What is this treachery, C5!?" He points to Tharan, "T-tell him I'm in charge!" Lana walks over to the bed and tries calming him down. "Look, just calm down and-" The teenager scrambles backwards to the other end of the bed. Once he's at the edge, he raises his hands defensively, "S-stay away from me!" Lana stops and retracts herself from the end of the bed.

Tharan gives a fleeting look of disappointment and a small sigh towards Lana, and walks to the other side of the bed. He looks at the boy and gives a gesture, non-verbally asking him if he can sit down with him. The false courtesy works on the boy and he nods to Tharan.

The agent sits at the edge of the bedside and gently lays his hand on the boy's. Tharan looks at him with a piercing gaze and softly asks, "Do you feel in charge?"

The teenager puffs himself up in a vain attempt to appear as if he knows what he's doing, and has everything completely under control. But it doesn't fool anyone and Tharan can even see the small child in the pubescent boy wanting to cry.

The agent can feel and see him shaking as well. He lightly shakes his head and attempts to control his voice, "I-it… it doesn't matter what I feel! What do I look like? A Jedi? M-my feelings aren't important in what's fact." He finishes the sentence by crossing his arms together to help with the facade of authority. The bruising around his nose begins to set in.

Lana sadly says to the teen, "You've already lost. Don't make this harder for-" "Leave us," B'el Sah commands to the bounty hunter and stormtrooper. 161 salutes them and exits the room, but waits in the hall for Lana. The Kiffar glares at B'el Sah before reluctantly leaving.

B'el Sah pays no mind to her empty stare as she has actual important matters to see. Once Lana's out of the quarters, 161 takes the door handles and pulls the doors shut. After it closes, the stormtrooper draws out his blaster rifle and checks if the safety is still on. It is and he holds it upwards and facing away from Lana at his left, as per safety regulations.

As the two begin their walk down the hall, 161 turns his head slightly to Lana. He slowly shakes his head and mutters, "Kids." Lana glances over to him and chuckles.

She decides to temporarily block out what had happened and what she knows will happen, and just tries cheering herself up. By that she decides to tease the stormtrooper officer. She gives him a playful punch on the shoulder and says, "I'm sure you'd make a great father one day."

161 coughs in surprise and falters in keeping pace with the bounty hunter. Lana turns further to see this and giggles at his expense while still moving. When she turns her gaze away from him, 161 momentarily ponders what she meant by those words while walking at a slower pace.

'Did she just…,' he shakes himself out of such thoughts. 'Snap out of it laser brain. It was just a joke,' he mentally scolds himself. The stormtrooper picks up the pace but keeps his distance from Lana when walking beside her this time.

Back in the Moff's quarters, B'el Sah puts her glass down on the desk and walks over to the left of the bed. She sits at the edge and puts on her warm, friendly mask. "What's your name, dear boy," she softly asks him.

The teenager's eyes dart between the two agents cornering him on the bed. He knows it's some sort of trap but can't piece it together properly. The boy decides it best to not lie to these people and tries answering straight, "I-I'm… I'm Dade Wrillcart."

B'el Sah lays on the calm, almost motherly persona thick to fool him. "A pleasure, Dade. I'm B'el Sah and this is Tharan Tallon," she motions over to Tharan.

Dade looks over to Tharan who gives a small smile and nods. He nods back and turns his attention back to B'el Sah when she speaks again. "Now, milord… There has been rumors afoot that your father, and those under him, are rebel sympathizers. And that they've assisted in Taris' current downgrade. How do you feel about that?"

He looks at her as if she had struck him. "Th-the-there's… whe… well it's true that there are rebels on this planet, but they're all alien scum! M-my father would never stoop to that level! Um, a… we all know the New Republic… it-it's a doomed effort!"

He mumbles one more thing to himself, "Upstart filth." B'el Sah reaches out and runs her fingers through Dade's short hair, brushing away any hair in front of his face. He shudders and tenses up at her touch, and attempts to pull away from her. Unfortunately for him, she keeps his head in place as if it was glued to her hand.

Dade feels her sharp fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. She begins to apply a little pressure and keeps up the act. "We would like nothing more than to put an end to these cruel lies, but we need your cooperation." The boy begins to sweat and steadies his breathing despite his increased heart rate. He doesn't entirely know why he's afraid, "I-I don't know anything," he blurts out.

B'el Sah's smile stays but her eyes show her true feelings to Dade. The pools of yellow and red surrounding a pitch black hole gazing through his entire being. She has her nails dig in further. "Now, now," she retorts like how a parent would say when catching their kid with their hands in the sweets jar.

Dade's shaking becomes more obvious and he attempts to avoid her stare but sees Tharan with a stern inquisitive look on his face. B'el Sah sweetly says, "If you don't help us, milord, your father and everyone in this mansion will be punished for crimes they never committed. You would also be wrongfully held under suspicion as well. Wouldn't be a Moff's son then, would you? You don't want any of that to happen, and neither do we."

'Take the bait and roll over already,' she inwardly says with the only expression of irritation coming from her eyes. Dade becomes more nervous under the agent's oppressive gaze and her 'indirect' threat. He gulps before speaking, "Uh, mmm…. W-we-well I… I-I want… I want nothing more than to, um, um… t-to cooperate. Uuuuh… yes, um, I'm sure I can… what do you need?"

B'el Sah's frightening gaze disappears and is replaced by her soft, friendly looking veil. 'That's more like it. Things didn't have to get messy,' she thought triumphantly. Tharan walks over to the four metal chairs and has two off to the side facing each other. "Step into my office," Tharan says warmly back to Dade.

The boy nervously nods and eases himself off the bed to go meet Tharan. B'el Sah stays seating on the bedside as she watches Tharan's spiel. Dade takes the opposite seat and Tharan takes his. He crosses one leg over the other and starts spinning his web.

"My deepest apologies for us working you up like this, milord. The questioning is inconvenient for you, given recent circumstances, but it is necessary in setting things right. If you'll allow me, we can start with something simple." Dade looks at the agent anxiously while Fluffy (the Nexu cub) lazily walks over and plops itself in front of his feet.

He eventually nods his approval to Tharan but doesn't let his entire guard down. Tharan's features soften to give a more welcoming look, "Splendid. What can you tell me about your father?" Dade nods, "W-well… wh-what would you like to know about him?"

Tharan answers bluntly, "Everything." Dades looks away from Tharan, "Well… I… I don't spend a lot of time with my father: he's a… a very busy man. Like your… associate said, things on Taris have been hard lately, and he's been working nonstop t-to make deals to ensure our position on the-"

He stops himself and shifts gear, "I mean the Empire's position… on the planet remains secure. Um, he… he's a good politician. Uh, um, uh… l-local trade guilds respect him, h-he's even friends with some of them. And… and, um… uh…" Dade stops and struggles to find anything else he knows about his father. He looks at Tharan and non-verbally shows a plea for something specific.

'Hmmm. Their relationship is distant at best. We can get a lot out of this if I play my cards right,' Tharan mentally assesses. Dade mentally and physically readies himself for a negative response from his lukewarm information.

But instead, the agent nods approvingly at him and maintains the friendly veneer. "It sounds like even though he's not around, your father is doing his best for you. It sounds like other people like him, I want to like him too. Again, it's a shame that our initial introduction was… rather violent and abrasive."

"And again, I am deeply sorry," Tharan lies whilst uncrossing his legs and unzipping a pocket in his fanny pack. He pulls out a handkerchief. The agent leans forwards and extends the handkerchief to Dade. He accepts it and wipes the mixture of drying and fresh blood from his face.

"I want to like you, as well. And I believe if we get to know each other properly, we can move on from how this transpired and try again with a clean slate. What do you say?" The teenage noble nods while having the handkerchief pressed under his nostrils.

He gives a nasally breathe before speaking, "I-I know father was very excited to have you arrive, a-and he's been… well he was preparing but was called away on urgent business. I had hoped to make a good impression, but then Assistant Chambra told me you've arrived a day early. I was ill prepared at the most and had just gotten out of bed."

"And then: I saw your stormtroopers going through the armory and ripping out floor tiles, someone from the balcony set off an explosion in the upper city, Captain Apell was murdered before my very eyes-" Dade is shortly interrupted by another shot from Otto. He looks up and then back at Tharan, "That keeps happening, a-an-and that woman…" He pauses to sniff and wipe more of the blood off his face before continuing. "W-what a brute. I can't believe she struck me!"

Tharan leans in again and places a hand on Dade's shoulder. The agent quickly thinks over what to say and begins mixing lies with half-truths. "This is indeed a lot to take in, and so early in the day. I will be blunt. Our approach was very heavy handed, but our intention wasn't to garner ill will, I assure you. We saw critical errors within the defensive structure of the palace, and tried to reason with your Captain Apell about these potentially fatal flaws."

"But he and those under him met us with only hostility and it forced our hand. We didn't know about you at the time - your assistant gave us little information to go off of - so we asserted emergency authority as per military protocol procedure 151A. Sub category E5; section Z. Your captain retaliated violently: attempting to murder our troopers' commanding officer, TK-161, and he had to be held accountable for his actions."

"A fellow agent of ours, Otto Mateen is his name, wanted to make sure any and all potential threats nearby kept their distance as we work on a better defensive perimeter, hence all the shooting. It's actually quite shocking at how many lawless criminals and rebel instigators there are, and this close to the palace no less." Tharan says with an eerily convincing expression of shock and distress. Dade hangs on to every word and seems to be buying Tharan's artistic liberties of events.

"As for my bodyguard, she can be a brute sometimes. But you understand why she did it, yes?" Dade blinks a few times and looks down with an expression of admission, and a hint of guilt. He reluctantly nods, "She wanted me inside because it wasn't safe outside."

Tharan smiles and gives a light squeeze on his shoulder, "But her approach in the matter is inexcusable. I do my best in making her more of a socialite with proper tact, but alas, you can't save everyone." The young noble chuckles at Tharan's little jest.

The agent continues, knowing that this boy is putty in his hands now. "Rest assured, I will punish her accordingly, and make sure she never acts in such a way again." Tharan moves his hand up and lightly ruffles Dade's golden hair.

"This is what a friend would do for you, yes?" Dade vigorously nods in agreement, a childlike smile forming on his face now. "I… I just believe that discipline should be of high priority. I read that at the battle of Hoth, we won because we were more organized and had proper discipline of our troopers compared to the rebels."

"They were complacent and-and-and thought they were safe on a frozen wasteland nobody visited, so they didn't enforce discipline and never ran necessary drills. Also that the chain of command wasn't shown even respect. They even allowed a smuggler to give their soldiers orders." The boy sniffles and wipes his nose again.

Tharan replies, "Oh, I couldn't agree more, milord. Do you wish to be present when I punish her?" Dade looks at Tharan a bit confused and unsure about what to say to that. He turns his head to B'el Sah to have her input. She puts back the warm, mother-like exterior when he sees her.

"It's your choice, milord," is all she says. Dade looks away and ponders to himself before looking back up at Tharan. "N-no. It would be rather gauche and childish of me to keep a grudge. I-I trust that you'll reprimand her, Officer. A-and we can all move on from there," the boy says confidently with his head raised.

Tharan grins ear to ear, "See, we're getting along famously. Can you tell me about this?" He reaches into his left pocket and pulls out the Moff's locket. The agent opens it up and shows Dade the looped holoprojection.

The boy's reaction was too quick for Tharan to pick up on, but B'el Sah saw and felt with full clarity his emotional imbalance upon looking at the locket. Deep seated feelings sadness and resentment leak involuntarily out of him for her to sense. They're quite potent with it being a mixture towards the mother, and the father having the full brunt of his acrimony. 'Both mommy and daddy issues. Perfect,' she thinks with her smile subtlety growing.

B'el Sah uses the energy of Dade's strong emotions to mentally tap into Tharan's mind. 'He holds intense animosity towards his father. Because even though his wife is dead, Moff Wrillcart shows love only to her.'

'Take advantage of this but be more careful in the approach,' is the message she sends to her fellow agent. Tharan gives a quick glance over to B'el Sah who has just moved from the bedside and is picking up the boy's broken datapad.

After the minute long pause, Dade finally responds with no emotion in the words, "I'm trying but, I don't remember ever seeing this." Tharan could tell he wasn't entirely lying, and at the corner of B'el Sah vision, she notices Dade's hands have clenched into fists.

Tharan sees them whitening as well and puts the locket back into his pocket. He leaves his chair and gives the boy his needed space. After a bit, Tharan walks back and points to Dade's hands, "Clearly it means something."

The boy looks to where Tharan is pointing and sees his clenched hands. He slowly opens them and gives a slow exhale, but he still trembles. The young noble looks up at Tharan, "What I said was true. I've never seen the locket before. It looked to be… s-something my mother owned. I suppose you found it in here?" Tharan retakes his seat and crosses his leg again.

"If it isn't too imprudent of a question, could you tell me about your mother? It may be helpful to vent a bit to a friendly ear." Dade decides to trust in Tharan's words and shakes his head, "I never knew her. She died when I was little." "If I could pry a little more," Tharan softly suggests and Dade nods his consent.

"What was her name," the agent asks. The teenager inhales slowly and exhales before answering, "Her name was Thalassa, or so our servants told me." Tharan gives him a caring look and a warm small smile, "A beautiful name. One you would want to keep close and never forget."

During this conversation, B'el Sah takes the still intact data card from the remains of Dade's datapad: a means to help garner more good will and dependence from the kid. And places the broken piece of hardware on the desk to make it look like it was there the entire time. After hearing Tharan's clever suggestion, she set the data card aside and moves back to the computer.

She types in 'Thalassa,' presses 'enter,' and sure enough, the computer beeps. "Password accepted. Welcome back, Moff Qinn Wrillcart." B'el Sah glances up to Tharan and makes an 'okay' sign with her right hand whilst smirking. Dade hears this and looks to see B'el Sah giving the okay. The boy says obliviously with an impressed appearance, "Wow. I thought nobody could break his password."

Tharan exits his seat with a satisfied smirk, and pats Dade on the shoulder. "Sometimes, doing your job is simply wonderful, regardless of the task needed of you. I can't wait to meet your father."

Dade nods to Tharan, not entirely what he meant but takes it as a good sign. He no longer feels any more blood coming from his nose and sniffs one more time. The teenager sets his gaze on Tharan and awkwardly looks at him while holding the handkerchief up.

Tharan gives another gentle smile to the boy and gladly takes his handkerchief back. He stuffs it into his left pocket with pride. 'Note to self, get rid of that later,' he mentally lists. B'el Sah strolls over to them with data card in hand.

She holds it out to Dade when she's close enough, "I believe this belongs to you, milord. It was all I could save: the device was too damaged from the… 'incident'." She lies with a kindly look of her own. Dade gladly takes it and holds it to his chest.

He looks back at her, "Thank you, Agent Sah. This means a lot to me." The female agent gives him a proper curtsy before returning to the desk. 'More wood for the fire,' she thinks with a black-hearted smirk.

"If there is nothing else, milord, I believe we have taken enough of your time," Tharan bows during his sentence. Dade gives the agent a salute, "Not at all, Agent Tallon." Tharan stands back up and holds a hand to his chest, "Please, milord. Tharan." "Tharan," Dade says nodding and smiling.

The young noble leans down to Fluffy and nudges the cub awake. "Alright Fluffy, out of the way," Dade says sweetly to it. The Nexu opens two of its four eyes at the right and groans as it complies. It returns to its spot at the right corner, "We'll play later, I promise."

Dade begins walking out but remembers to ask Tharan why they changed his father's room. He turns, "Um, Tharan." The agent stands straighter, "Yes, Lord Wrillcart?" 'W-why did you…," the boy doesn't know how to properly put it into words and just gestures to the entire chamber. "All this," he adds.

Tharan chooses his words carefully as to not undermine their beautifully made set up because of a paint job. "Some may call me over zealous when it comes to imperial guidelines regarding essentials. I'm sure your father won't be… entirely thrilled with the change in decor, but I always believe that no matter how high a rank you are, you must always keep your living arrangements and offices spartan. There's less distraction in it, thus our focus will be entirely on helping you. Once we're finished, it'll be changed back to its original state. You have my word."

Dade shrugs, "At least my eyes won't be blinded every time I walk in here." The young noble thinks it over and nods to himself, "I prefer it this way. Carry on." "Thank you, milord. We shall," Tharan bows again. 'We may make a true imperial out of you, yet,' he thinks.

Once the boy finally leaves, Tharan locks the doors, and finally removes his compassionate mask with a sigh of relief. He looks back to B'el Sah and says in a serious tone, "What have you found?"


End file.
